It's a Small World
by MaximumAnnaClary
Summary: Clary Fray is a nurse and part time artist in NYC, and shares an apartment with Izzy, another nurse. Jace Wayland took over his father's bar, and meets Clary there, where she becomes a regular. Feelings blossom as they grow closer, but when they find out who the other is, is there any chance left for a romantic future? Find out! Clace (P.S. Sorry I suck at summaries)
1. Week 1

**Clary's POV:**

October 3-

I walk into the bar, shaking the New York rain off my jacket and ringing out my damp fiery hair. Wayland's is a small sports bar, and not a very busy one either, although it is 7:30 on a Monday night. _I wouldn't be here myself_ , I think, _if it weren't for Izzy and I deciding not to pay for cable anymore._ I walk around the bar, scanning the TVs for my desired program, and wind up at the last chair, disappointed.

"What can I get you?" The bartender appears out of nowhere, and I smile politely at him.

"Actually I was wondering, since it's not too busy right now and there doesn't seem to be a particularly special sporting event going on, if you could change the channel?" I ask quietly, giving him a small smile.

He smirks at me, shaking his head. "Sorry carrot top, we don't run Lifetime."

My eyes narrow instantly, smile dropping from my face. "Umm no. I'm referring to the BTN Wrestling Dual Match. It's the first of the season, so naturally I can't miss a minute of it," I explain. _Douchebag._ The bartender raises his eyebrow at me and I raise both of mine back, daring him to make another sexist remark. "Channel 610. And could you bring me a Pabst and some wings?"

He smirks again, and rummages around under the bar for something, coming up with a remote. While he watches the channels flip by on the TV, I watch him. He has shaggy golden hair, and a sun kissed tan despite it being October in New York. But what really catches your attention are his eyes. They're such a light brown, like a deep tone of saffron. _He's made of gold… What the hell?_

As he turns back towards me, I cast my green eyes up to the TV, hoping he hadn't caught me checking him out. The BTN in the lower corner makes me smile with excitement, and I check my phone to see how much longer until the match starts. _Only 11 minutes left…_ I'm practically bouncing in my seat by the time he comes back with my PBR. "So what's your name?" he asks curiously, sliding the beer across to me.

I pause for a second, then shake my head and take a swig of the Pabst. "I'm not telling you." He looks thoroughly surprised for a second, as if he has a right to know my name.

"And why is that? Don't you want to know my name?" He leans across the bar, his face reaching into my personal bubble.

"No, I don't. We're not friends, I'm just buying a drink at a bar. Doesn't require names." I see him raise an eyebrow, and check the time again. _4 more minutes…_

"How quickly you dismiss our friendship!" He places a hand over his heart, as if struck, and I can't help but smile a little at his act. "You mean you don't trust me?"

I roll my eyes at this rhetorical question, and decide to answer honestly. "No, and you don't trust every stranger either, buddy. I mean come on, you have a sign that says 'No tip jar, please leave tips with an employee'." He opens his mouth to argue, and the sound of the BTN theme sounds, signalling the start of the program. "Shh it's starting!" I whisper, eyes glued to the TV as I drink more of my beer.

His body shakes with laughter as he walks away, and I wave a hand to shoo him off. He puts his hands up and backs away, wiping down the bar on the other side.

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

One beer and two hours later, the match is over. I see the redhead collect her things, and walk over to her. "You all done here, Red?"

"Red? Really?" she scrutinizes as she lays down some cash along with the tip.

I laugh at her scrunched up nose, wiping down the bar. "Well apparently we're not exchanging names," I defend myself, leaning against the bar to watch her put on her jacket.

"Fair enough, _Blondie_ ," she teases, sticking a bubblegum pink tongue out at me.

I laugh again, a rarity in my case, that seems to come easily around this redhead. "You know I could just card you. You do look awfully young," I threaten, looking the petite girl up and down.

"Oh puh-lease. I've been over 21 for quite some time. I can't help it that I'm short and have childlike features," she explains, looking slightly put out.

"How long is 'quite some time'? Two months?" I ask jokingly.

She scoffs, "Try two years, jackass. I'm not _that_ young." I laugh and shake my head at her sass, collecting payment from another customer. _23 years old… Not too young after all._

I'm still chuckling at her perturbed face when I come back over, "You are _so young_ , you don't even know. I'm 27, trust me."

Her bright green eyes get wide with wonder. "Oh wow. You're four years older than me! Please, oh ancient one, tell me the lessons of your years!"

We both laugh at her dramatics, and open my mouth, about to lay on the charm, when her cell goes off. "Hey Si," she answers. _Who is Si?_ As her hand brings her battered cell phone to her ear, I notice for the first time an engagement ring. _Holy shit, she's engaged?_ "Yeah I'm on my way. Totally. Already hailing a cab." I snap out of it when I hear the fib, and pretend to chastise her. She flips me off before waving and walking out the door.

I sort the cash register and clean things for closing time at 10, thinking about the redhead. _She's engaged… And that makes me upset… Why do I care? She's just a random customer. I doubt I'll ever even see her again._ As I lock the doors behind the last stragglers, I hope with every fiber of my being that I'm wrong.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay, hey guys. This is my first ever fanfic. Some of the chapters might be a little on the short side, like this one, but I will be posting EVERY Monday unless some kind of disaster occurs like I lose a hand.**

 **Anywho, thanks for all who read, and extra thanks for all who review. Constructive criticism is encouraged, just don't be an ass hat.**

 **Thanks!**


	2. Week 2

**Jace's POV:**

October 10-

7:42 pm. I pick up another glass and start polishing it, inexplicably nervous to see if the redhead would show up tonight. As I pick up my next glass, a voice cuts in. "You do realize that you already polished that one?" I look up with a start and see my friend Sebastian sitting in the chair right in front of me. _Sonofabitch… He's always been so quiet._

"How do you do that?" I ask curiously as I pour him a glass of bourbon. "There's a fucking chime on my door, I should've heard it." _Especially since I'm waiting for Red…_

"I am quite sneaky. How else do you suppose I get away with the less respectable actions I commit?" he asks with a wicked grin, to which I smirk back. Sebastian Verlac and I have been friends since we were kids, getting into trouble together in high school and college. When I took over Wayland's from my dad, however, I mostly stopped all of those shenanigans. Sebastian, on the other hand, did not. "Anyway. Are you finished here? There is mud wrestling tonight at New York Dolls…" he offers, waggling his eyebrows.

"No can do. In case you haven't noticed, I'm working." I sort money in the register—for the third time in the hour, though he doesn't need to know that—to prove my point.

"Ah yes. Wouldn't want to disappoint your many Monday night customers," he says dryly, looking around the bar dramatically.

"I have some regulars that come in around eight. I don't wanna let them down," I tell him, hoping now more than ever that Red will come in. _It's already 7:50pm._ Like an answered prayer, the short redhead walks in, letting the door slam behind her. I'm struck again by how naturally beautiful she is. Soft curling red hair, striking green eyes, and makeup-free porcelain skin covered in delicate freckles. As she walks to her seat from last time at the end of the bar, we make eye contact, and I feel my chest clench a little. _Stop it, dude. She's just a girl. Just another customer. You got this, you're fucking Jace Wayland, by the Angel…_

I walk over as she's peeling off her coat, and I see that she's wearing light blue skinny jeans tucked into bright yellow rain boots and a gray sweater that has a thick green stain on the sleeve. The glint of her engagement ring catches my eye, and I feel my face drop a little, though I can't explain why. "Oi!" she says loudly, catching my attention. "Where's my channel, dude? You didn't forget about me, did ya?" She smiles widely, winking and sitting down. _Not even close_ , I think, turning to change the channel. I feel her eyes on me and grin internally. _She hasn't fallen for me yet, but I'm sure she will. At least I know she finds me attractive._

When I turn back around, Sebastian is pulling out the chair next to Red. _What are you doing, Seb? Don't try anything with her… Ugh, why do I care? What makes her so freaking special?_ "Hello," he introduces himself, offering her a handshake. "My name is Sebastian. Sebastian Verlac."

She turns in her seat, accepting his outstretched hand. "Hello Sebastian." She doesn't say more than that, simply turns back to look at the TV.

Sebastian's expression is laughable and I do my best not to chuckle at her dismissal. "Might I ask your name?" He leans closer to her.

"You can… I won't tell you though," she answers truthfully, not looking away from the her program.

"And why is that?" Sebastian presses, seeming a little too interested in her name. _Back off bud. Can't you see the engagement ring on her finger? Oh who am I kidding, even I'm pretending it's not there._

Finally Red turns back to him, and looks him straight in the eyes. "Because then I wouldn't have the upper hand anymore," she says with a straight face.

I can't help it; I laugh. When Sebastian shoots me a look I stifle the laughter, but can't wipe the smirk off my face as I look at Red. She gives me a tiny smile, and raises her eyebrows mischievously.

Sebastian looks between us a couple times before a light bulb seems to go off above his head and he scoots even closer to her. "So," he starts, in a tone that makes me weary. "Would you say that you are a regular here, of sorts?"

She seems to think about it for a second before shrugging. "I suppose so. Since my roommate and I decided not to pay for cable anymore, I'm left to go to sports bars to watch my wrestling."

"Wrestling?" Seb asks, shocked. I don't blame him. It's not a sexism thing, she just hardly seems like the kind to be interested in sports.

"Yeah. Not professional wrestling, like WWE and the like, but I prefer freestyle wrestling. Big Ten Network runs it Mondays at eight," she explains, checking the time on her phone. Seeing that it's 7:57 she looks back to the TV.

I chuckle at her excited expression, ignoring Sebastian's knowing look. _Is it really_ that _obvious I like her? Man I hope not… I hope Red can't tell how fascinated I am by her._ "What can I get you, Red?"

She looks at me, green eyes sparkling with humor. "Pabst and wings, man. If I'm gonna be a 'regular' around here, I'll expect you to remember that from now on," she says with a smirk. I roll my eyes and turn to get her beer, hiding my grin.

Sebastian still has that stupid look on his face, like he knows something I don't, when he stands up and puts on his coat. "Well, I should be going. Are you positive that you do not want to come tonight?" he asks again, regarding the mud wrestling.

I can't help but let my eyes dart to Red and back, before shaking my head. "Nah, I've got my hands full here. I'll talk to you soon, maybe we'll make a night of it," I suggest, slapping him on the shoulder.

Seb looks at me like he doesn't believe me before turning to Red. "It was very nice to meet you, Miss…" he trails off, hoping that she'll finish for him, but she keeps her mouth shut. _Good. She's not interested, Seb. Go home._ He smiles and takes her hand, placing a chaste kiss on the back of it. I can tell it caught her off guard, and she flushes a deep pink before turning quickly back to the TV and taking a long drink from her Pabst. Sebastian chuckles at this, and salutes me before backing out the door.

As I place her wings in front of her she gives me a sweet smile, still blushing. Although I love the look of her blushing, I can't help but be annoyed that it was Sebastian who caused it and not me.

 _Who the hell kisses girls' hands nowadays? I didn't think that was an acceptable thing to do. Or a_ sanitary _thing to do… What is it about Red that makes me want to be the one to make her smile? To make her blush?_

I go back to tending the bar, however always keeping the redhead in my line of sight. I shake my head and go to the back room, trying to clear my head. _I am womanizer Jace Wayland. I don't get hung up on girls, I never have before._

When I come back to the front a couple minutes later, new case of beer in hand, I think I finally understand my infatuation with Red. _It's gotta be the fact that I don't know her name. The mystery is keeping me interested. Yup, that's gotta be it._ I'm pulled out of my logical thinking by a cheer from the end of the bar, and look over my shoulder at the source of noise. Red is standing now, beer frozen halfway to her lips as she stares at the TV with wide excited eyes.

She must have sensed me looking at her, because she quickly blushes and chews on her bottom lip in embarrassment. "Sorry Blondie. The refs actually made the right call when the wrestler was pinned, which is a rarity. It was a cause for celebration," she explains sassily.

I chuckle and nod my head understandingly. _I love her blush…_ The smile drops from my face as I realize how easily she makes me forget about life and logic. _Fuck, I'm screwed…_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hiya! So, second chapter is up, as promised. You'll see some serious Clace cuteness next chapter, this one more just introduces a character, and shows how Jace is coming to terms with his feelings for Red.**

 **Anyways, thank you all for reading, especially those who reviewed. Criticism (and support) is always welcome.**

 **I'll see you next week, dankie!**


	3. Week 3

**Clary's POV:**

October 17-

I'm almost to Wayland's, a small bundle of nervousness inside me. I'm ready for wrestling and wings, of course, but seeing him is what makes me nervous. _I've only met him twice, and I've got a crush. On a bartender. A funny, sexy, cocky bartender._ I should know better than to like him, but it's surprisingly easy for him to make me laugh, and the banter flows easily between us. I open the door and he's the first thing that catches my eyes. Golden skin, golden hair, golden eyes… _Snap out of it, Clary. He's gonna think you're creepy._

I take my usual seat at the end, and almost immediately he's in front of me. "Hey Blondie," I greet him, smiling easily.

He smiles back smugly, that smirk that's constantly in place. "Hey yourself, Red. You want the usual?" I give him a crooked smile, knowing he's saying that because of our conversation last week.

"Yes please." As he shakes his head and walks away I notice that the TV is already set to BTN, and smile inwardly. I still have a couple minutes before the meet starts, and I absentmindedly watch Blondie work. _How are some people so attractive, like him, and some people so awkward, like me? Why did the gods decide to make him a golden adonis, and me a freckle-faced child? How is that even fair?_

Blondie comes back with my beer, and I look hastily to the TV. _I gotta stop looking at him. One of these days he's gonna catch me, and then where will we be? Looking for another sports bar._ But right when he turns away to get my wings, I watch him again. There's something about him that's so appealing, other than his obvious good looks. The sharp angles of his face make me want to draw him badly, but I know better than to do that in public. He lays down my wings and I smile at him over my beer. When he smiles back my stomach does a little flip, and it makes me want to change my rule about not exchanging names with strangers.

Then the bell above the door chimes and I look up to see a brunette girl strut into the bar. She's shaped like a model, with long legs and a low cut sweater showing off her cleavage. As Blondie goes to take her order she leans forward, pushing her chest out, and smiles widely at him. She's all but batting her lashes at him and I instantly hate her. When she reaches out to touch his arm I look away, realizing for the first time that Blondie might have a girlfriend.

I down half of my beer and stare unseeing into the mirror behind the glass shelves, trying not to feel pathetic. When the meet starts I look up, glad for any distraction. I eat my wings in silence, trying to focus on the men grappling on the screen. But all I can think about is the bartender, the brunette who walked in, and the nervousness in my stomach that has suddenly turned to dread.

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

October 22-

I just finished a late lunch, and am rounding the corner when a flash of red catches my eyes. Just a couple paces in front of me is a girl with bright red hair. _Calm down, Jace. This is New York. There are hundreds if not thousands of girls with red hair in New York._ Just as I have this rationalizing thought, the girl turns to apologize to someone she had bumped into. _Red._ If her smile didn't give her away, her voice would have. It rings like bells, soft but strong, and for a moment I wonder what an angel like her is doing living in New York City.

She turns abruptly, and walks into a supermarket. I pause, mentally debating whether to follow her and risk being seen as a creep, or keep walking and not see her again until Monday. It doesn't take long for me to decide, and soon I'm pulling open the door to the supermarket.

For a second I think I've lost her, but the squeak of her comical yellow rain boots catches my attention, and I find her grabbing a basket from the stack in the middle of the packed entrance. I take this moment to appreciate her appearance, which is extremely casual today. She's wearing black sweatpants, that are refusing to stay tucked into her rain boots, and a long sleeve t-shirt that has small splotches of color along the cuffs and torso. Her vibrant red hair is pulled into a messy bun, with some stubborn curls falling out here and there. _You're checking out the girl you like in the middle of a supermarket. You followed her in here, and she doesn't know you're watching her. You're doing this. What is wrong with you?_

She turns left, heading towards the electronics, and picks up a pair of headphones. I smile, watching as she bobs her head—probably unknowingly—to the song the store is playing. She walks to the hygiene section next and quickly spots the floss. She's reaching for a specific kind apparently, stretching up on her tippy toes. _I always assumed all floss was the same?_ She's still trying to reach the floss a couple seconds later, and I decide to stop following her around the store and just help her.

"Need some help, Red?" I ask with a smirk. I grab the package easily and hand it to her, my 6'1" height putting me at a much better position than her.

She lets out a triumphant whoop that makes me grin, and looks up at me. "Hey Blondie. Thanks for this." She smiles at me, and I quickly realize I've never been this close to her. _She smells like strawberries and… lavender? Who would've thought that combination would be so endearing?_

"So what's so special about this brand of floss?" I ask, trying to start a conversation with her.

She bites her lip and looks down, like she's trying to hide her smile. "I got a free sample from the dentist once, ya know in those little goody bags that they give you at every visit? And I loved it. It's not flavored so there's no filmy residue, and it's thicker like a braided string instead of thin so it doesn't cut up my gums, and… and I am rambling to you about floss." She throws it into her basket and turns away, blushing. _Cute. Likes floss: noted._

I think for a heartbreaking moment that she's leaving me here without so much as a goodbye, but am proven wrong when she speaks again. "So what are you shopping for? Anything specific?" I'm about to answer, but she cuts me off, "By the Angel, I sound like a sales clerk…"

I let out a chuckle and catch up to where she's standing, just a little further down the aisle. "No, not really. Just miscellaneous items." _Just enough miscellaneous items to make it look like I came into this store to shop and not to stalk you._ She nods her head knowingly and bends to grab a bag of cotton balls, inspecting the bag. Out of nowhere she starts chuckling softly. I'm about to ask what's so funny when her chuckle turns into full blown laughter, and I think it's the best sound I've heard in my life. Her laugh is as contagious as her smile, and soon I'm laughing along with her. Suddenly a snort escapes her mouth, and she claps a hand over her mouth in astonishment. _I will always remember this moment._

"What is so funny?" I ask between bouts of laughter, eager to know what caused this. Saying nothing she grabs the bag of cotton balls from her basket and throws it at me. I catch it and start searching, reading the front twice. Finally I see it, hidden in plain sight, printed underneath the cotton ball count. 'Extra large balls.' I chuckle too, and look up to see that she's calmed down considerably, although she's still smiling. "Are you laughing at the fact that it says 'extra large balls' on the package?" I ask incredulously.

She lets out a little giggle, and nods her head sheepishly. "Hi, I have the maturity level of a 13-year old boy."

I release a laugh at her declaration, and walk with her down the rest of the aisle. "You're really something, Red." _Why does she have to be so perfect? And so engaged?_ As I look down to place the bag of cotton balls back in her basket, I notice something I should've noticed when I first saw her: Red isn't wearing her engagement ring.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey! Third week is done. I love the second part of this chapter, even if Jace is wee bit stalker-ish in the beginning. Next week Clace gets some alone time *wiggles eyebrows* and you get to meet Simon.**

 **Thank you all for your support, you're freaking amazing already. Keep those reviews coming, I love to see your comments!**

 **I'll see you next week, faleminderit!**


	4. Week 4

**Clary's POV:**

October 24-

When I walk into Wayland's at 7:45, I am not in a good mood. Normally I don't mind being an on-call nurse, because I get half-pay just to stay at home and stay free. But when they call you in fifteen minutes after your shift technically starts and don't let you leave for ten hours, you get a little crabby. _All I want right now is my Pabst, wings, and wrestling… And Blondie, but I'll have to get over that…_ I sit down and wait patiently, rubbing my temples to try and rid myself of the headache I've had since eight this morning. _The silence is definitely helping… Why_ is _it so quiet?_ As I look up I realize that the bar is completely empty, save for me.

I get up to check the door for a closed sign that I might've missed when Blondie comes out from a back room. "Hey Red," he greets me. "Where you going?" Blondie wipes his hands with a rag, and I'm momentarily distracted by the way his arms move. _Damn he looks fine… Stop checking him out, Clary, omigod._

"Um, I was just—are you closed?" I stutter. I do a mental facepalm, wishing I could for once be smooth. At anything. _He's always so graceful, and almost stealthy. I can't even walk across a flat surface without my feet catching on something, and I stutter over my order in the drive thru._

He laughs and leans against the bar, shaking his head. "Nah, it's been pretty dead all day actually." His golden eyes bore into mine, a kind intensity behind them that I never get used to. _He actually pays attention to me. Not in an intimate kind of way, that would be ridiculous. But I'm not invisible to him, and I guess that's progress._

I nod slowly, still not sitting down. "Oh. Well, I could—I mean I could leave, if you want? Maybe you could close up early?" _He can do that right? Does he need permission, or is it like a 'use your best judgement' kind of thing? I'm kind of surprised the owner or boss is never here; he must have worked here a long time to gain the trust required to close up at night._

Blondie shakes his head again, in a faster almost desperate motion. _That couldn't be though. It's not as if he_ wants _me to stay. He's so interesting and gorgeous, whereas I'm so boring and plain._ "No, stay. I mean, if you want. You're more than welcome to." He stops suddenly, as if realizing he was babbling. _I'm glad I'm not the only one._

Smiling, I sit in my usual chair, coat and messenger bag hanging on the back. "In that case, I'll have the usual, Blondie." Shooting me a wink he leaves to get me my items, and I focus on the nerves fluttering inside my stomach. _I've never been alone with him before. I mean, there was the store, on Friday, but we were in public. Now it's_ just _us_ … He returns shortly after, and I realize a little too late that I'm looking at him with exceptionally wide eyes, as if I'm guilty of something. "Thanks."

He nods and smiles in response and starts wiping down the immaculate bar. Then he starts polishing the crystal clear glasses. _He does realize he doesn't have to stay up here, right? He was in the back room before, and I doubt he wants to stand up here and watch me drink and eat. This is so fucking awkward, I should have just left…_ "Blondie," I whisper, not fully knowing why. "You know I'm not gonna steal anything. Or like, wreck havoc on the bar."

Blondie stops in front of me, smirking like I'm somehow amusing to him. I suppose my awkwardness can be humorous sometimes. "How very convincing, Red. Are you sure you don't need adult supervision?" he asks sarcastically.

I roll my eyes and pull out the seat next to me. "Fine. At least sit down. You're making me feel awkward." He looks shocked at my suggestion, but complies, and soon he's seated a mere six inches away from me. _Be cool, Clary. It's just Blondie. Be cool._ "Wing?" I offer him, and immediately kick myself. _Seriously? 'Wing?' Not exactly what I meant by 'cool.'_

But he just laughs and shakes his head, diminishing my fears that he'd thought I was weird. "Nah I'm good." Soon the meet starts, and I'm explaining the rules to him, complaining when the refs don't call a pin, and cheering when the wrestlers make the right move. We're laughing and eating wings and drinking beer… _And I'm falling. Falling way too fast for someone I don't even know the name of. Someone who might have a girlfriend for all I know. Someone who is so completely out of my league, that it's not even funny._

When the meet ends and our mess is cleared, we spend the time talking, bouncing jokes and snide comments off each other as if we've been friends for years. However, ten o'clock eventually comes around, and he's soon locking the door behind us. We say our goodbyes, and I almost ask for his name so that I can give mine in return. _Would it be so bad to break my rule? Just this once? He's obviously a nice guy, no serial killer vibes or anything in the past four weeks._ I shake the thought out of my head, watching him walk down the block away from me. Only when he's around the corner and out of my sight do I realize that my headache is gone, scowl replaced by an easy smile.

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

October 27-

Monday night after Red and I left the bar, I called up the guys, desperate to get her off my mind. _As if that were possible._ They were eager, of course—too eager, I'd say. Sebastian and Raphael instantly suggested a strip club, which made me wince and roll my eyes. Bat and I declined, him being engaged to a nice girl named Eve, and me having no real excuse. _Red isn't affected by my charms at all. Not that I've been able to really try. She turns me into a babbling pile of mush, until I remember that she's engaged and my mood drops again._

After nearly fifteen minutes of arguing, we agreed to start at the batting cages, and see where the day went. So here I am three days later, Seb, Raph, and Bat accompanying me to The Field House at Chelsea Piers.

When we walk up to the batting cages in The Field House, we're greeted by a jean-clad booty hanging out the front window. The girl is on her tiptoes, leaning as far into the window as possible, and laughing hard. I freeze instantly, recognizing that laugh anywhere. _Red._ Sure enough, once the redhead returns to her flat feet, her beautiful freckled face comes into view, though she still doesn't notice us. The guy behind the counter doesn't either, too busy laughing at whatever she had said.

I take this time to study the mystery man working the window. Brown mousy hair, dark brown eyes hidden behind thick black-rimmed glasses, and a lean build. He stands quite a few inches above Red, though he isn't as tall as me. The name tag on his shirt declares his name is Simon. _Simon? This must be 'Si.' This is her fiance? Seriously? I mean, sure he can make her laugh… And he hasn't looked away from her once, hasn't even noticed we're here in fact. Dammit…_ I start fuming silently, and my friends must have noticed the change in my attitude as they watch me glower at Red and Simon in jealousy. _Jealousy? Oh, fuck no. I cannot be jealous of a guy like_ Simon _. I used to beat guys like him up in high school!_ Just then Simon notices us, and nods his head in our direction.

Red turns around and tenses slightly when she sees me, though she doesn't stop smiling. Along with her gray converse and cutoff jeans, she's wearing a baseball tee with the Field House at Chelsea Piers logo, although the shirt is much too large for her, and she isn't wearing a name tag. _Must be Simon's shirt_ , I think begrudgingly. "Hey Sebastian, hey Blondie," she says casually, giving a little wave. Raph and Bat straighten when she faces us, newfound interest on their faces. _Too much interest. Stop it. I know she's breathtaking and shit, but you don't even know her. Not like I do._ I wince as I realize that that must be what Simon thinks of me.

I nod in response, and Sebastian walks up to her, all smiles. "Hello. Nice to see you, as always."

She gives him a polite smile in response and looks at Simon, who's trying to peel a piece of tape off the surface of the counter. Red's grin widens as she watches him with a look of obvious affection, and asks, "You guys here for the batting cages?" We nod in response, none of us really knowing what to say. "I'll just get out of here then." She leans into the window once more, grabbing Simon by the collar and whispering something into his ear. He blushes and stutters, making the other guys laugh, and me surprisingly angry. Red backs up and shoots the four of us a quick wink before walking backwards away from us. "Bye, guys. See you around, Blondie."

She spins and strolls away, and I watch the way her hips sway subtly, wishing I had said something, anything. Instead I stayed silent, as if I didn't like her at all. _But I do. Way too much. Especially after Monday, when my fears were confirmed; it's not just the mystery. I'm actually falling for her. It's so easy being around her. Like smiling, and laughing, and everything else that comes easily when she's near._

Only when she's out of sight do I notice the rest of the guys looking at me. I shake my head to clear it, and walk up to a nervous looking Simon. I realize I must be glaring at him, but I can't help it. Seb, Raph, and Bat are still snickering about Red's scene with Simon, when rat-face clears his throat. "Umm…" he starts timidly. "Four for the batting cages?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **The awkwardness of a fast-forming crush is hilarious to me. So Simon is Clary's fiance!? Yay Climon? What do you think Clary whispered into his ear?**

 **Next week is Halloween, so obviously lots of shit is gonna happen. I hope you ingest lots of alcohol if you're responsible enough, and candy either way! Please no sexy nuns! (You'll get the reference next week.)**

 **See you Monday. It'll be lit af. Təşəkkür!**


	5. Week 5

**Jace's POV:**

October 31-

It's Halloween night, and the bar is packed. All the commotion doesn't stop me, however, from noticing Red the second she enters. I wasn't sure she would show up because of the holiday, but here she is, red hair shining like a beacon. Her small frame slips easily through the crowd, and soon she manages to snag a seat. I walk over right away, ignoring the protests from customers closer to me.

"Omigod! Are you Ron Stoppable!?" she screams, gaping at my black turtleneck and gray cargo pants. _How did she even guess that?_

I pull at my sleeve nervously, feeling childish. "Yeah… Is that weird? I've been telling other people I'm GI Joe or something, cause they don't remember who he is. But I've always thought I kinda looked like him, and he's the bon diggity, so…" I trail off, looking away. _I just said "bon diggity"…_

"I'm Kim Possible!" She stands up and shows me her costume, and I instantly look back, laughing at the coincidence. She's wearing army green cargo pants, and a black turtleneck cutoff. _Holy shit. She's dressed as Kim Possible, when I'm dressed as Ron Stoppable. It looks like we're dressed up as a couple_ , I think offhandedly, and I flinch a little at the realization that that will never happen.

The midriff shows off her slim figure, and I quickly glance at her engagement ring to remind myself to behave. "Guess we make the perfect team, eh Red?" I ask jokingly, grinning at her.

"I guess so, Blondie." She smiles back at me cheekily, and I feel a pain in my gut.

 _Then why can't she see how great we would be together? Why is she still engaged? I'm sure Simon's great, but is he really as good of a match for her as I am? Can he make her laugh until she cries, or read her face when she doesn't say anything, or really listen when she needs someone to talk to?_ "Where's Simon?" I ask, trying to remain uninterested.

"Oh, he's at some party with his girlfriend," she informs me, rolling her green eyes skyward. _Say what?_

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "Wait… So, Simon isn't… I mean you two aren't…?" I can't form the sentence, the shock overwhelming me.

"Simon!? No! He's like my brother," she assures me, laughing nervously.

"So then where's your fiance?" I ask with what I hope is a convincing smile.

"Ha. I wish I knew…" she says quietly, looking away quickly. For a moment I'm worried I've upset her, but soon it's replaced with anger towards him. _Doesn't he know how lucky he is? Doesn't he want to be around her all the time? If she was mine I would never leave her side. She just wants to watch wrestling, dude, why aren't you here with her!?_ I'm about to ask more, when a couple of scantily clad girls dressed as a sexy nurse, sexy kitten, and sexy nun call for me at the other end of the bar.

"Ooh duty calls," Red points out, also noticing the loud girls. "Keep a watch out for their napkins, straws, and little umbrellas. Something tells me those girls are a little… trashy." She smirks at me, and I can't help but notice the drastic difference between girls like that and my Red. " _My Red." Jeez Jace, she's still engaged._ I laugh at her joke and walk to the girls, stopping to grab the small trash can under the bar and shoot her a wink. She laughs and looks over the Halloween specials menu, reading all the options with an amusing intrigue.

The girls are already sloshed, and asking for more alcohol. They push their chests out, obviously trying to flirt with me. Normally these would be the kinds of girls I'd be interested in. I'd hook up with a nice piece of ass, and never call her again. The closest thing I've ever had to a girlfriend is Kaelie, but it was just a repeat booty call and we both knew it. But ever since I met Red, something in me woke up. I find myself wanting to know her, spend time with her just because I love being around her… I'm jerked out of my daydream when the sexy kitten all but paws at my arm, which I pull back hastily. I tell the bartender next to me, Will, to cover them, noticing that he's been looking at the sexy nun since she walked in. _Who dresses up as a sexy nun?_

I hastily return to where Red is sitting, glad to see her sweet smile instead of a sloppy leer. "You decide yet, Red?"

She nods enthusiastically, "Yeah, I'll have the Poison Apple cocktail." I nod and get to work, mixing the drink with a little flair, proving my many years of practice. "These names are great, by the way. 'Wayland' has got a seriously creative mind for alcoholic beverages," she gestures to the name of the bar at the top of the menu, and I smile at the compliment unknowingly aimed at me. "I mean, Cemetery punch, Blood Sucker cocktail—and oh, the Vesper martini? 007, my heart goes out to you."

I place her drink on the bar and stare at her in wonderment, "You know who Vesper is?"

"Bond's deceased love? Tragic, but it had to happen," she says diplomatically, sipping her Poison Apple cocktail. "Good drink, by the way." _Okay, she's too perfect for whoever this fiance is._

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

November 1-

It's a late Tuesday afternoon, at a sports bar. What does that mean? _Bills. Yay._ The bell above the door rings and I hurry out to the front quickly, wanting to catch the customer and eager for a distraction. To my utter but pleasant surprise, I see Red standing in front of the bar, staring at the glasses on the shelf. "Hey, Red. Do you not realize it's Tuesday, or do you just miss me already?" I ask cheekily. _Tone it down, asshole._

She doesn't react at all, just continues to stare ahead. "Shot of vodka."

My smirk drops quickly, and I close the distance between us, leaning against the bar. "Hey… Are you alri—"

"Shot, of, vodka," she repeats, mouth in a thin line. I'm worried about her, but keep silent as I get her a shot. She swallows it right away, "Another."

I hesitate, not wanting her to overdo it because she's upset. "Red…"

"Just get me another shot," she asks softly. She sounds broken, and I get her another shot quickly, desperate to help her in any way I can. She downs this one just as quickly, but thankfully doesn't ask for another one. She sits in silence for a couple minutes, not blinking, and I watch her, trying helplessly to find out how to comfort her. Before I can ask what happened, her mouth opens, though she doesn't speak at first, as if she's having trouble forming words. _Something really bad must have happened. If that fiance of hers hurt her, I swear to God—_ "A… friend of mine, died today."

My anger subsides, replaced with guilt for only thinking about my jealousy of her fiance. "Oh… Red, I'm sorry."

"We've been expecting it for a while," she continues quickly, flopping down in the seat. "She was old, and had been sick on and off for years."

"That doesn't mean it hurts any less," I tell her, hoping I'm not being too forward when I place my hand over hers.

"I wasn't even there. I was supposed to _be_ there." Her voice wavers, and my heart breaks at the sight of her like this.

 _I just want to hold her, to comfort her in any way I can._ "I'm sure she understood." _Is that a stupid thing to say?_ "Tell me about her," I offer, knowing it can help sometimes to talk about lost loved ones.

A ghost of a smile appears on Red's face, and my heart relaxes just a little bit. "I've known her for years. She was my downstairs neighbor when I was a kid. She was a psychic, of sorts. Palm reading, star charts, tea leaves. She would always yell at me for making such a racket, and we'd get in these little fights over the stairs. She was so stubborn." My mind runs rampant with imaginary faces of a younger Red, with brightly colored clothes and an even brighter smile.

"Wondered where you got that from," I tease lightly, giving her a pointed look.

She smiled a little larger now, glaring at me playfully. "I moved out and didn't see her again until I heard she was in the hospital the first time. I've been watching out for her ever since," she finishes in a wistful tone.

"What's her name?"

She smiled a real smile this team, pearly whites showing between her pink lips. "Dorothea. Though she'd just about bite your head off if you called her anything but _Madame_ Dorothea."

"'Madame' Dorothea?" I ask incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Once when I was thirteen or fourteen, we got into one of those fights, and I called her 'Dorothy.' Biggest mistake of my life. I have never been so scared, and I grew up in New York." We chuckle at that for a good while, both picturing an elderly woman with the fury of Hell in her eyes. Red squeezes my hand, startling me; I'd forgotten I was holding her hand. "Thanks, Blondie. She's been sick so long that I'd almost forgotten the good times. I needed that."

I smile softly, glad to have helped at all, even though I can see the remnants of sorrow in her eyes. "Anytime, Red. I'm always here." _I'll always be here for you._

She smiles back at me, and I feel a weight leave my shoulders. We look at each other for a couple seconds, and just as I realize I've been staring at her she chuckles softly. "Ya know you really are. Are you like the only bartender?"

I have to laugh at that, knowing how right she is. I practically live here, but that's what you do when you own a business. "Yeah, kinda. There are a few others for special occasions, or Friday nights, whenever we know it's gonna be busy. But, mostly it's just me."

"Just you, Blondie?" she raises her eyebrows at me.

I laugh nervously, realizing with a start that we're still holding hands. Neither of us are pulling back.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay, don't judge me for the KP reference. I've just always thought Clary & Jace were described like Kim & Ron, so I had to put it. Also, those who guessed that Simon was NOT Clary's fiance, well done (Go Sizzy!). You might find out who IS Clary's fiance, or you might find out some even bigger news… Stay tuned for awesomeness.**

 **Please review! I got like four last week and it nearly broke my heart. Shout out to those of you that DID. See y'all next week. Eskerrik asko!**


	6. Week 6

**Clary's POV:**

November 7-

I walk into the bar in a good mood, a noticeable spring in my step and a wide grin on my face. Madame Dorothea's funeral was yesterday, so getting the news this afternoon was exactly what I needed to start my week off on a better note. I sit in my usual chair and drum my stained fingers on the edge of the bar excitedly. _I can't wait to tell Blondie about this… Wait, what_ am _I going to tell Blondie? Only a few people know, do I really want him to know about something this personal and confidential?_

While I'm still debating on how much to tell him, Blondie himself appears in front of me. "Hey Red. I would ask how you're doing, but the smile on your face seems to render that unnecessary," he notes, grinning along with me. My smile gets impossibly wider, and he raises an eyebrow at me expectantly. _Stop it Clary, you probably look crazy._

"Yeah. I'm fine, largely thanks to you, by the way," I say, referring to his support when Madame Dorothea passed, looking at him with what I hope is a thankful expression. He waves me off with a kind smile, and I continue, "I just got some really, really great news today."

I bounce in my seat once, unable to contain my excitement, and he chuckles quietly, probably a little scared by my intensity. _Hakuna your tatas, Clary, jeez. You're going to scare him off with your enthusiasm._ "Well? Let's hear it. What is this good news that's got you so happy?"

I falter a little, chewing on my bottom lip. _What to say, what to say…_ "Umm… Let's just say, my personal life took a big step today. One that I've been trying for, for what feels like a long time." _Is that too nonspecific? Is he gonna think I'm a secretive asshole or something?_

"Ah," the light in his eyes dim, but he's back to normal so quickly that I'm convinced I imagined it. "Well, I don't want to pry. But, congratulations. I'm glad you're happy, Red." He smiles at me kindly, and I feel another bout of excitement in my stomach, although this time it's Blondie that put it there. _By the Angel, he's cute._ "I'll go get your usual."

I try to sit still in my seat, but fail miserably, instead looking around the nearly empty sports bar animatedly. He comes back fairly quickly with my Pabst and I hurriedly stop him before he can pop the top. "Oh! Um, no Pabst tonight, actually. Sorry, I forgot to say that before you left." _Oopsy daisies. My bad, bro._

Blondie is frozen in place, and I have to physically stop myself from laughing at his astonished face. He so rarely looks anything but sarcastic, with that damn smirk of his. "No… No beer?" he says slowly, as if he's trying to process something. _What's got his boxers in a wad?_ … _Don't think about him in boxers._

"Yeah… I just shouldn't really drink, for a while." Blondie is still staring at me silently, so I continue awkwardly, now just trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, "I'm still getting the wings though, even though those probably won't sit too well…"

Suddenly the closed beer bottle drops from his hand, crashing to the floor. The sound startles him from his catatonic state, though he still looks shellshocked. "Fuck!" he exclaims, looking down at the glass shards and puddles of beer spreading behind the bar.

"Oh gosh… Blondie, are you okay?" I ask quietly, insanely surprised that he just dropped the bottle like that. Blondie, who always moves with such grace, whose hands always seem so steady and sure. _What the hell? What shocked him so much?_

"I'm fine," he snaps, not looking at me. "I'll go get your wings." Without another word he stalks off, walking carefully around the mess to avoid tracking beer and glass everywhere.

I look after him in stunned silence, and sit back down slowly. I stare at the wrestling meet, not really focusing on the event at all. I have too much going on in my mind, with the great news about my artwork making it into Adelante Studios, and Blondie's bizarre mood change. _I know I drink every time that I'm here, but that's largely because it's a bar. I'm not an alcoholic, dude. Like, I'm sorry that I got food poisoning last night, but I am_ not _going to add alcohol to that combination._

When he returns to place my plate in front of me I try to search his eyes, and eventually they meet my green ones. What I see there in his golden orbs instantly makes me want to wrap my arms around him and never let him go. He looks heartbroken, like someone just told him that his best friend has died. _I'm not stupid, I know this reaction is about something completely unrelated to me not getting a beer tonight. But what changed between one second and the next that upset him this much?_

Before I can even form a sentence to inquire, he's gone again, to fetch a broom or mop I suppose. I want to comfort him like he did for me when Madame Dorothea passed away, but the way he's avoiding eye contact and not speaking leads me to believe that it's my fault that he's upset now. _But what did I do?_

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

November 11-

I love Isabelle Lightwood. We met during work orientation at the hospital, when we were both fresh out of nursing school. She became my best girl friend almost instantly, and we've shared an apartment for a little over a year. When I introduced her to my best friend since kindergarten, Simon Lewis, it was obvious to everyone but them that they were meant to be together. It took a ridiculous amount of persistent badgering, but after their first date, I could see on both of their faces that they were falling hard. Now they are madly in love, and I couldn't be happier; because as I said before, I love Izzy.

Except when she wants to go to clubs. Which seems like every week to me, even though I know that's a bit of an exaggeration. A bit. This week is no different. When I told her and Simon about my painting getting into Adelante Studios, her first comprehensible word was "celebrate," which only meant one thing: a club. Which is why I find myself here, leaning against the bar as Izzy—with her long black hair, long smooth legs, and long lashes surrounding her dark brown eyes—drags an unenthusiastic Simon to the dance floor. _Poor Simon_ , I think sympathetically, giggling into my drink. _Isabelle Lightwood is a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure._

She sashays around him, making him blush and fidget nervously. I watch Izzy dance and Simon make a fool of himself until he taps out after a few songs, and Isabelle is pulling me in. We dance together for quite a few numbers, laughing and twirling to the fast paced songs. The loud bass reverberates through the room and my body, forcing my heart to beat in time with the rhythm of the song. The mojitos I've been drinking soon catch up with me, and when I announce that I have to pee Simon takes over again, a little more confident after his own alcoholic drinks have had a chance to settle in. I return after what is much too long considering the endless line for the bathroom, and sip my drink in content silence, the engagement ring doing a splendid job of keeping any creepy guys at bay.

Or so I think, until I notice a dark figure lounging at my side, watching me. "Sebastian," I say in surprise. _How the hell is he so quiet? I swear he wasn't there like, five seconds ago._

He flashes me a catlike grin, looking like Lucifer from _Cinderella_ because of his overall darkness that contrasts starkly against his pearly whites. "You remembered."

"You're not an easy person to forget," I tell him honestly, blushing when I realize it must have sounded like I was flirting with him. He's just a very memorable person, with his pale skin, sharply defined features, and contrasting black hair and eyes. _The kind of beauty that a Venus Flytrap possesses._

"Neither are you, although I still do not know your name," he edges, pleading me with his eyes.

"And that way it shall remain," I answer coyly, partially mocking his formalness. _Nice try, buddy._

He simply smirks, still looking at me. "Might I buy you a drink regardless?" he asks, without any doubt that I'll say yes.

I lift my left hand between us, and raise my eyebrows. "I'm engaged."

Sebastian lifts an eyebrow at me, smile narrowing as if he knows I'm lying. "I know the ring is a fake. And while I do not judge your attempt to avoid most men in this genre of vicinity, I will have you know that I am a perfect gentleman."

"Is that so?" I ask incredulously, lowering my hand to the bar slowly. _He's been nice so far, but I don't know him very well at all. Even less than Jace. But what could happen? We're in a public place, and Simon and Izzy are nearby._

"I will prove it to you. Let me buy you a drink," he offers.

I roll my eyes. "And what do you want in exchange?" I ask, knowing how guys in clubs work, trying to pick up girls. _Not me of course, but I've heard stories. There are some seriously sick fucks out there._

"All I require is a name. Your name, preferably," Seb adds, still smiling at me. _Jace's and Sebastian's smiles both make me feel all weird inside. But different kinds of weird… Is it just because Sebastian is so formal? I'm sure he's just trying to be polite, like that's how he was brought up, but it's actually kinda weird._

After a couple seconds of thinking out all the possible outcomes, looking him up and down judgingly, I concede with a shrug. "Fine. I'll have another mojito, please."

He nods his head in response, and orders my drink, along with a bourbon for himself. When the bartender comes back with our drinks, Sebastian pays him and turns to me, glass in hand. "Here you are, Miss…" he trails off, waiting for me to answer before giving me my drink.

"Clary," I finish, smiling. "Clary Fray."

He grins and hands me my glass, taking a swig of his bourbon before speaking. "Beautiful name."

I blush and look down at my drink, stirring the mint leaves further down into the glass. "Thank you." _Sebastian Verlac is charming indeed…_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **So Jace is acting weird, right guys? Hehe… Don't hate me, I like keeping my characters in the dark. Adelante Studios is a real place in New York, the first of many real places I'll write about. I don't live anywhere near New York(unfortunately), but I did my research because I wanted this story to seem as realistic as possible, and I also suck at making up names of places.**

 **And voila, you now know that Clary's engagement ring is indeed fake. Some of you readers have been calling that since the beginning, so congrazzles to you. Those of you that thought it might be Seb, sorry. But hey, Sebastian knows Clary's name now, and it looks like she's kinda crushing on him…**

 **Counting down the days until I see you guys again! Currently it's 7! Review because I crave reassurance! Hvala ti!**


	7. Week 7

**Jace's POV:**

November 14-

It's already 7:45. Red will be here soon, and for the first time since we met, I feel dread instead of—manly—butterflies of excitement take up residence in my stomach. _Pregnant. I can't believe she's_ pregnant _. She said she's been trying for this for a long time, but why? What's the rush? She's only 23 and she's already engaged. That makes sense because, well, she's_ her _. But why not just wait until she's married to that stupid fiance of hers? The same stupid fiance that got her pregnant._ A wave of rage comes over me and I tighten my grip on the bar the same way I try to get a grip on myself. _It's not like I really expected anything different. She doesn't even know I like her. It's not fair of me to be mad when she doesn't have all of her options listed out in front of her._ But I'm still angry. Angry that she doesn't feel what I feel between us. Angry that now, even if I _do_ tell her how I feel, she will always have this child—this connection to her fiance.

My thoughts, previously zooming by at lightning speed, come to a sudden halt when Red comes in the door. She looks effortlessly beautiful, as always. Bright scarlet hair in natural tangled waves, and wide emerald eyes unobscured by makeup. I look closely, trying to find any sign of her current state, but I can't. I don't even see that odd "glow" that people are always saying pregnant women have. In fact, she doesn't even look particularly happy. Maybe nervous… _Well, I_ did _snap at her last week when I found out. And then ignored her the rest of the night. Real smooth._

She sits in the seat at the end of the bar and I walk over slowly, wiping my hands on my jeans. _I'm gonna tell her I'm sorry. Then I'm gonna see how her pregnancy is going. Then I'm gonna tell her that I like her and want her to break up with the father of her child… Yeah, that sounds good._ "Hey Red," I start quietly.

She looks up suddenly, as if I startled her. "Hi Blondie… Umm," she starts, twisting her red hair nervously around her fingers. It's adorable. "Look, I'm sorry about last week." _What? What is she sorry about?_ "Granted, I'm not entirely sure what I did, but whatever it is, I really am sorry."

"Red," I stop her unnecessary apologies. "You didn't do anything. I just, I was surprised is all. I mean, I know I'm not like a huge part of your life or anything, but you're a pretty big part of mine, and finding out that you were pregnant like that—"

" _Pregnant!?_ " she screeches, slamming her hands down on the bar.

I stop at her outburst, looking at her with wide scared eyes. "Yeah, I know you didn't technically tell me you were, but you told me you had huge news in your personal life, and that you had been trying for this for a long time, and then you didn't want to drink alcohol, and said you couldn't keep food down, I just—I guess I just assumed—"

"That I was _pregnant_?" she asks, her wide green eyes bugging out slightly.

"…Yeah?" I hold my breath, watching as she all but hyperventilates.

"Blondie. I had _food poisoning_. I didn't want to add alcohol to the mix, so I laid off the beer for a night, since I was still feeling slightly nauseous," she explains.

I let out a breath I'd been holding slowly, the relief sinking in and relaxing my muscles. "Then what was the big news?"

She scoffs, leaning back in her chair ungracefully. "I… got a promotion at work," a freckled shoulder lifts as a gesture.

I can tell she's lying, but I don't even care enough to question her further. "You're not pregnant." _She's not pregnant. Not pregnant. One less barrier between me and her. Now I just have to tell her that I like her, and want her to break up with the guy she's probably been dating for years and is engaged to be married to… Easy peasy._

She shakes her head, leaning forward again. Suddenly her eyes get wide, and her mouth drops open. " _Do I look pregnant!?_ " she's looking at me desperately, and an instant panic grips my heart like a vice. _Back pedal! Oh by the Angel this is horrible!_

"What? No, Red, no. I was completely shocked. You're not even glowing. I mean not a pregnant kind of glow, ya know, it's more just like you're beautiful and so it kinda radiates off of you, but you don't _look pregnant_ , no." I stop my rambling right away, realizing too late what I had said. _I told her she was beautiful. I've never told a girl she was beautiful without an agenda. Never just because it was true and she should know it._

She stares at me in surprise, and I stare back, wishing not for the first time that I could read her mind. _Do I tell her now? Do I tell her how I feel now? I've already told her that she's beautiful, that got the ball rolling. Just keep going, keep going—_ "I'll have the usual, please… _With_ the Pabst," she adds, expressionless. I nod silently, walking away in a stupor. _I just got shot down,_ hard _. I mean, I know I didn't tell her that I like her, but I did tell her that I think she's beautiful. And she just asks for "the usual?" Da fuq? What happened to "thank you?"_

I take my time getting her wings, trying to gain the courage to tell her. I've wooed countless women—granted I didn't have to try all that hard—but I can't even tell a pretty girl that I like her? Pathetic, man. On my way back I grab her beer, strongly considering just reaching across the bar and kissing the hell out of her. _Thaaat's an_ excellent _way to get charged with sexual harassment, dude. This is New York, what are you thinking?_

I place her things in front of her, and pause, not sure what to say. We make eye contact, and stay like that for what is too long to be appropriate, just looking at each other. I'm holding onto the edge of the bar so tightly that I'm afraid the wood is going to break off in my hands. I'm about to throw caution to the wind and fling myself across the bar to her, to my Red, when a customer at a table on the far wall drops his mug of beer.

The tension between us shatters like the glass, and she looks down. I all but growl as I walk away, grabbing a broom on my way. _Stupid. Stupid,_ stupid _. Why didn't you say anything? It's three words! Three words, and the next step would've been hers. Just tell her, and it'll all be over. She will either hurl herself into your arms, or walk away and probably never return. At least you wouldn't still be hung up on her, watching as she gets married, and eventually_ does _get pregnant._ I clean up the broken glass and spilled beer, waving off the guy's apologies. Accidents happen, it's not his fault I don't have the balls to tell Red that I like her.

The meet passes surprisingly fast after the mess is cleaned, with an unexpected crowd rushing in at 9:20, just before last call. When they're all satisfied and I've dealt with their final bill for the night, I make my way, once again, to Red. She's already putting on her coat, and I know that this is my last chance before she leaves and I don't see her again for a week.

 _Say it. Say it, Jace. It's easy. By the Angel, middle school boys do it! Just say it! Three words! Ready, set, go!_ "Where's your fiance?" I blurt, kicking myself. _Not the three words I meant. You're supposed to make her_ forget _about her fiance, idiot, not bring him up!_

"What?" she asks, looking just as puzzled as I imagine I do.

"It's just, he's never here. And I realize I don't know anything about him. Like, at all. I don't know, I was just wondering why you're always here alone." _Smooth. Real smooth. Way to put the moves on her, Jace. She'll be putty in your hands._

I'm expecting an answer like 'Oh he works on Monday and Wednesday nights,' or a reproach for asking something so personal, or basically anything but hysterical laughter. Which is what I get. She's laughing so hard that no sound is coming out, just quakes of laughter shaking her body as she clutches at her sides. I stare in confusion, waiting impatiently for an answer. "You—omigod…! So all this time you thought— Blondie!"

"What? What about my question is so goddamn funny?" I ask, my frustration coming out more that I'd meant it to.

She sobers up fairly quickly, though she's still smiling at me like _I'm_ the crazy one. "So you thought I was pregnant. _And_ you thought I was engaged? What the hell, man, why don't you just ask instead of assuming everything!"

"What do you mean? Red, just _talk_ to me, dammit!" I can't help my anger. _She said 'you thought I was engaged.' Doesn't that mean…_

"I'm not engaged, Blondie. I have never been engaged, not even close. I am single as a pringle, who's too socially awkward to mingle," she explains, still chuckling at me.

"But… but you're _wearing an engagement ring_!" I yell, letting my annoyance show now that we're the only two left in the bar.

"Blondie, it's a _fake_. I wear it at clubs and bars to fend off the creeps," she explains, as if it's totally natural to lie to the majority of the public about your relationship status. _Then again, I guess it kind of is; I know my cousin Isabelle does the same exact thing._ Just like that, my entire world implodes, despair and utter joy combining in an unnatural tornado of emotion. I know I must look stupid, standing there with my mouth open, but I can't form words to express what I'm feeling.

She pats me on the hand in a comforting gesture, and my head snaps up to see Red shaking her head at me. She's still smiling that smile that makes me feel as if everything in life is going to be alright as long as she's happy. "I should go. But I'll see you next week, and I promise I will answer any pending questions you may have about my nonexistent relationship, or my nonexistent pregnancy." She smirks and walks to the door, buttoning her coat. _I should run after her, and tell her now how I feel_ , I think logically to myself. But I'm frozen in an utter state of shock.

She stops with her hand on the doorknob and turns to look at me. "You are, by the way." When I look at her in confused silence, she smiles sweetly before continuing. "You're a big part of my life, too. A pretty huge one."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Jace thought she was pregnant with her fiance, but his whole theory just got debunked. So yay for Clace possibilities! And okay, call me a sap but I like Clary's last statement. I know some of you were hoping for a Clace kiss, but be patient. Everything works out, I've already written to week 14.**

 **Next week someone takes the next small step towards Clace, and Clary's artwork is revealed. Get hyped!**

 **PLEASE keep reviewing! Gràcies!**

 **(P.S. I've challenged myself to write a longer chapter every update, because I feel like they're still too short. So you're welcome. Thank me by reviewing.)**


	8. Week 8

**Clary's POV:**

November 21-

 _Can't do it. Nope. I can not do this. I don't care how badly I'm craving wings, I can not go in that bar._ I'm pacing outside Wayland's, probably looking like a crazy person as I shake my red head vigorously. My gloved hands are shoved deep into the pockets of my royal blue coat, balled in frustration as I lose a battle against myself. I spent all week trying to decide what to do about my feelings for Blondie, and got literally nowhere. _He called me beautiful. Me! Beautiful! No one but my mom, Simon, and Izzy have ever called me beautiful before. And then the freaking man of my dreams calls me beautiful, and I can't say anything! I should've told him how I feel about him, obviously I know that. But I definitely should have at_ least _told him "thank you," by the Angel! But I didn't. I sat there in a silent stupor, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "I'll have the usual." Seriously!? By the Angel, Clary, you're_ hopeless _!_

Now here I am, freezing my ass off in the New York November chill instead of just going inside and facing the man I've had a crush on for two months. _I can't ask him out. I know myself well enough to know that that will not happen. But how chicken is it to not do anything? And what if he has a girlfriend? Maybe we could be friends—er, closer friends. We could exchange names, even numbers… What if he has a weird name, like_ _Commodore or Erasmus or, omigod what if has the same name as my dad or brother!?_ I repress a shudder, and shiver instead. _This is crazy, Clary._

In a fit of frustration I yank the door open harshly, all but stomping on my way to my usual seat. I quickly rip off my coat, the heat in the bar blowing full blast and disturbing my fiery waves. It takes Blondie a little longer than usual to arrive to take my order, but I don't mind. I distract myself with thoughts of my own self loathing for not having the lady balls to just look Blondie in the eye and tell him that I like him. If he reacts horribly, I could still work my way back into the friendzone. But all this seems horribly pointless if I don't at _least_ get his real name…

Soon enough my dreadfully romantic thought process is cut off by the presence of a golden man, looking much too gorgeous and nervous for anybody's own good. _Why does he have to be so damn attractive? If he weren't so obviously out of my league, maybe I wouldn't be paralyzed by the thought of even flirting with him. Fuck, yes I would… Wait, why does he look nervous? Is this because he knows I'm single now? Does he think I'm crushing on him? I mean, I totally am, but he doesn't know that. Oh fuck, he doesn't know that, right!?_

"Hey, Red," he starts quietly, hands in his back pockets, hidden like a schoolboy who's about to be chastised. _Why is it that him calling me "Red" gets me going more than anything else? I mean, I can't even think about how amazing it would be if he were to ever kiss me… Okay well_ now _I'm thinking about it…_

"Hi. How was your week?" _Well done, Clary. Keeping it civil. And more importantly, even-toned and not at all telling that I'm imagining him kissing me senseless right now._

"Umm," he looks startled by my question, though I can't imagine why. "It was fine. Nothing too exciting. Yours?"

 _Oh you know, I couldn't get you off my mind, so I took two extra shifts. Hope you're happy, Blondie, my feet are killing me._ "Uneventful."

He nods, not saying anything. For the first time since we met, we fall into an uncomfortable silence. His safrin eyes avoid my green ones, and vice versa. _Why are things so weird between us? Nothing has changed. Is it that obvious that I like him?_ "You want the usual?"

"Yes!" I all but scream, wincing. "Sorry, that was loud. Um, yes, please." _By the Angel, I am so weird._ He laughs quietly at my little spaz attack, and I think that maybe this is how we'll carry on. For tonight at least. _It's all about progress… And maybe one day, an us._ When Blondie returns with my wings and beer, he shoots me a smile, and my heart relaxes. I let the stress of the past week wash away, replacing emotions and complications with wrestling and good food.

We don't talk much for the rest of the time, although it's not a stiff silence. When the match ends at 9:30, I stay seated, wanting to avoid the real world for just a little longer. Blondie comes over soon enough, clearing my stuff and wiping down the bar. "How'd the meet go?" he asks politely, chewing on his lip in an extremely distracting way. _Look away, Clary…_

"It was good. Refs made a few dumbass calls, but what else is new," I roll my eyes, finally standing from my chair. "One of my favorite teams is moving forward next week, but there's a chance I won't be here to watch it, depending on how some… personal stuff pans out." _Why didn't I tell him I have a date? It's just another stupid blind date set up by Isabelle. We could laugh about how stupid set ups are, together. But I guess it_ would _be awkward, considering just last week I told him that I was single as a pringle… Omigod did I really say "single as a pringle?"_

He smirks and leans forward. "I guess I'll just have to text you the scores after each match."

My heart jumps a little, thinking that he's gonna ask for my number, but he doesn't continue. _Seriously! You offer to text me, but don't ask for my number so you can follow through!?_ "Aww, Blondie. Have your skills with women fallen that low? If you wanted my number you should've just asked me," I wink, hoping I sound a lot more confident than I feel. _For real. Take the hint. Ask for my number, because I'm way too awkward to ask for yours!_

He laughs and shakes his head, walking away to take care of another customer. In a burst of courage and probably insanity, I grab a pen from my messenger bag and scribble hurriedly. I'm out the door before Blondie returns, just like I planned. Once the bar door slams shut behind me I take lungfuls of cold smoggy air, trying to convince myself that I didn't just make a mistake.

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

November 24-

I stare ahead, nerves slowly but surely disappearing. The hardwood floors, white walls, and open space allow sunlight to shine through the front windows, enhancing the framed artwork. Adelante Studios has been one of my favorite places to go since I was eight, when my art major babysitter brought me along. While the artwork is indeed beautiful, it's really the studio itself that keeps bringing me back. The straight edges and clean lines; organization away from the clutter that is life. It's a bit obsessive compulsive, yes, but it relaxes me and allows for an escape.

I wander the studio for quite a while, pacing in front of the paintings, walking back and forth from exhibit to exhibit. The artwork passes in a blur, until one display catches my eye. It sticks out like a sore thumb in the studio, as I'm sure the artist intended. Whereas most pieces on display in this studio are done in soft pastels and muted colors, this is painted in bright and vibrant hues.

It's set in Times Square, and almost looks like a photograph with how extreme the detailing is. People outnumber yellow cabs almost by the hundreds, all rushing in different directions. I can tell it's set in the summer by people's outfits, and the number of individuals wearing sunglasses and eating ice cream. I look at each person separately, every one unique, until a flash of blue catches my eye.

On the right side of the painting, walking just outside of the sidewalk, is a man. He's taller than most people surrounding him, and is dressed in a glittery deep purple suit jacket, open over a bare chest that has no bellybutton. His eyes are curved, giving him a somewhat Asian appearance, an intriguing yellow-green color with vertical slits like a cat's. His hands are by his sides, little blue sparks emanating from each painted finger tip. I realize that this man is supposed to be a warlock, and step back from the painting in surprise. _Wonderful… Odd but wonderful._

I move onto the next piece, and see that this also has shockingly realistic detail. It's much darker, obviously after nightfall. The full moon stands out sharply behind the tall trees, which are all but naked after shedding their leaves. _It must be fall in this painting, based in Forest Park._ I look lower, and see roughly seven shapes spread along the bottom. Wolves are running through the trees, slinking low the ground. Most are farther away with their noses to the ground, but one wolf is considerably closer, looking straight ahead into the eyes of the viewer.

Like the last piece, the detail is unsettling; veins on the leaves and hairs on the wolves, all standing out and blending together at the same time. I search for something magical, something maybe a little paranormal, but come up with nothing. I back up, a little disappointed, and then see it. _Their eyes._ Instead of blank and slightly ferocious, the wolves' eyes are expressive and intelligent. Rather than glowing yellow eyes, they are human-like, in colors such as brown, hazel, and even a bright blue hue for the wolf in front. _Werewolves…_

The artist paints these scenes at well known New York locations, something completely ordinary and mundane. But then a sliver of magic pops out, making you see normal life as something mystical. I make a mental note of the artist before heading towards the exit, a newfound lightness taking over my heart, where Red has been.

Monday night started out awkward as all hell as I tried—and failed—to gain the courage to make a move, but turned out to be one of the best nights after all. I was afraid when I saw that she had left without saying goodbye that I had missed my chance at getting her number. She left the window of opportunity wide open, and I just laughed awkwardly like some nervous prepubescent boy! But then I saw it: the glimmer of hope that had placed this stupid smile on my face. Seven numbers scrawled in neat and flowy script in the corner of the napkin that was under her empty beer bottle.

I finger my cell phone in the pocket of my jeans thoughtfully. I still haven't contacted her, only because I don't know what to say. My first instinct was to text her "Happy Thanksgiving," but that just sounded too lame. _I have to think of something. I have her number now, so there's no excuse. Literally, no excuse, except that I'm a fucking wuss._

I leave Adelante Studios, Red on my mind like always. _I want to show Red these paintings. I have a feeling she would love Fairchild's work._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **So looks like Clary made the first move after all, by giving Jace her number. What do you guys think of the paintings? I liked the idea of incorporating the Shadow World into this fanfic, even though it's AU.**

 **Next week a LOT of shit goes down, but I'm not giving anything away. So just bring the snacks and get excited!**

 **Can't wait for you guys to read next week's update! Salamat!**


	9. Week 9

**Jace's POV:**

November 28-

 _8:30… Might as well face it, Jace. Red's not coming tonight. She said herself that she might not be here. Because of some "personal stuff." Whatever the hell that means. She's so secretive about her personal life. I don't expect her to disclose everything, but she should be able to talk to me…_ I'm still pondering what she might've meant when she walks in just five minutes later, shivering in what most would call inadequate winter clothing. I can't stop my mouth from dropping open a little when Red pulls off the long coat, shifting in her bottle green dress. _By the Angel, she's gorgeous._

I release a low whistle and walk over to her, grinning like an idiot. "Wow, Red. You look nice. I didn't know you owned a dress," I joke, looking her up and down appreciatively. _Damn she looks good. I've never seen her in a dress before, but it definitely doesn't disappoint. I mean I think she looks good in her paint spattered clothes, but this is totally different._

"Shut it. I can be a lady… when provoked," she clarifies, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat ungracefully.

I chuckle at her statement and roll my eyes, straightening from my usual spot across from her. "Whatever you say, Red. The usual Pabst and wings?"

"No wings. I just ate dinner." Her green eyes watch the TV, catching up on what she has missed I'm sure.

"Now why would you do a crazy thing like that?" I ask curiously as I grab her beer.

"Umm, it's kinda procedure to eat dinner when you're on a dinner date," she says like it's obvious.

 _A date? That's why she's late? I thought she was_ single _, who was she on a date with!? There's no way in Edom I missed my chance with her…_ I try to keep my face stoic as I nod slowly. "Oh… So, you had a date? That's why you're all…" I trail off, indicating her dress.

She chuckles, the sound making me smile despite having just received the horrible news. "Yes, Blondie. That's why I'm all," she cuts off, gesturing to herself. _And here I thought she might've dressed up for me…_

I pretend to play it cool, ignoring the stab of jealousy going through my heart. "So, how'd it go?" _Did you wish you were with me the entire time? …Or is that just how_ I _feel when_ you're _not around?_

Red waves a hand dismissively. "Pft. I'm here, aren't I?"

I relax immediately at her brush off, smiling at her. "Yeah, you are." We look at each other for a couple seconds longer than normal, and then I take a quick swig of her Pabst before handing it to her.

"Hey!" she cries, outraged. I laugh at her scowling face, noticing not for the first time just how much this girl has changed me already. _I'm crazy about her. If it wouldn't be so weird, I would invite her to Jordan's wedding on Wednesday. But I don't even know her name. And I_ still _haven't texted or called her yet. She probably thinks I didn't see her note, or worse, that I'm not interested. But I am,_ so _interested. I don't want anyone but her._

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

November 30-

 _I've never liked weddings…_ I think, cringing as yet another person I haven't seen since college describes every excruciating detail of the last five years of their life. _As if I care. Not to be rude, but there's a_ reason _I didn't stay in touch, ya know?_ I nod in what I hope is an enthusiastic manner, and politely excuse myself. _Wow, you're happily married with one adorable kid and another on the way? Congratulations! I'm pining over a girl that frequents my bar. Oh, and did I mention that I don't even know her name?_

I quickly grab a seat in the third row, sitting in between two people I don't know to avoid unwanted conversation. It's a small gathering, no bridesmaids or groomsmen, probably less than fifty chairs set up facing an archway. The place is set up nicely, indoors obviously, to spare us all from New York's harsh November weather. I stare into space, ignoring the appreciative looks I get from some of the women. _I should have just asked Red to come. The worst that would have happened is her saying no. And if she had said yes, I could've seen her in a dress again, and maybe even managed to finally make a move._

As I'm thinking about her, a flash of red catches my eye in the first row. A girl with curled scarlet hair is sitting on the edge, deep purple dress making her fiery locks stand out even more. _Red? No. Why would she even be here? Then again, she could know Maia. I don't know her well at all, so maybe she and Red know each other?_ I lean forward to get a glance at the girl's face, when a familiar looking boy with brown hair and thick glasses sits next to her. _Simon! That_ is _Red!_ I sit in shock for a minute, and just as I decide to stand up and say hi, the minister faces the crowd, gaining our attention.

The wedding ceremony goes rather quickly, all things considered. Jordan looks anxious as he fidgets under the arch, and then the nervousness disappears the instant Maia is in sight. Unadulterated love is shining obvious in their eyes as they exchange the average wedding vows you hear in movies, and soon they're slipping rings onto each other's hands. The crowd stands and claps when they kiss, and soon Maia and Jordan are walking down the aisle, hands clasped tight and faces split in shining grins.

I watch intently as Simon whispers something into Red's ear and she laughs hard, slapping him across the chest. I make it to the end of my row as they're passing and reach a hand out to stop her. "Red," I start, not really knowing what to say.

"Blondie." The shock is as evident in her voice as it is on her face. Simon seems surprised as well, and awkwardly excuses himself to find his girlfriend. "What are you doing here?"

I chuckle and shift on my feet, shoving my hands into the pockets of my suit pants. "Oh you know. Open bar," I joke, winking and giving her my signature smirk. _The one that makes every girl but_ this _one swoon. Just my luck._ "How do you know Maia?" I ask, serious now and genuinely curious.

"Umm, I don't actually. I'm with the groom," she clarifies, flipping a scarlet curl over her freckled shoulder.

I can't help but let my eyes bug out a little at this information. "How do you know Jordan!?" _You mean I could've met her_ earlier _in life!? What the hell, what the hell, we could be_ engaged _by now! Or something less terrifyingly extreme, like dating._

"We grew up together, I've known him since we were kids," she explains, smiling at the coincidence. "How about you, how do you know him?"

"We went to college together, and even roomed together for a year." I shake my head, still trying to wrap my head around this ridiculous happenstance.

Red laughs, and is about to start talking again when my cousin Isabelle runs over, placing a hand on her shoulder. "There you are! Simon found me and said— Jace?" she asks, glancing between Red and I, looking just as confused as I originally was. "Wait, you're talking to… Jace you didn't!"

I wince at her tone, knowing _exactly_ what she was accusing me of. I look over to see Red has gone extremely pale, her green eyes impossibly wider. "It's not what you think, Iz. I know her from the bar," I try to explain.

"Izzy, _this_ is your cousin _Jace_!?" Red shrieks, and I can't help the dread that settles just thinking of what Isabelle might have told her of me. _I'm a jerk? I use girls for sex? Then I never call them again?_

Isabelle lets out an exasperated sigh, flipping a strand of black hair out of her face in an annoyed gesture. "Yes, but I never would have imagined that _he was the bartender_!"

Before I can fully register the fact that Red must have talked about me to Izzy, Simon walks over with a concerned look on his face. "What's happening over here? I heard Izzy yelling," he asks, placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. _You have_ got _to be kidding me._ Isabelle _is Simon's girlfriend? No way. This is just too much of a coincidence. This kind of stuff just doesn't happen in New York._

Isabelle rolls her eyes before clearing her throat and straightening her back diplomatically. "Jace, this is my roommate Clary Fray. Clary, this is my cousin Jace Wayland. You two do with that what you will," she instructs before stomping off towards the bar, dragging Simon with her.

 _Clary Fray. Her name is Clary. By the Angel that's perfect. Of course it figures that she doesn't have a horrid name, like Mildred, or_ _Prudence._ We're staring at each other in stunned silence, though whereas she looks like she ate some bad fish, I'm sure I look like a lovesick puppy. _Why is she so upset? Did Isabelle really talk me down that much that it would change our two months of knowing each other? It's not like we were dating—fuck, I wish—but this can't have changed what little progress I've made?_

"Red, I—"

"Hello Clarissa," Sebastian interrupts, entering at my right. _Her full name is Clarissa? Wait HE KNEW HER NAME!? How the fuck did he know her name before me?_

"How do you know her name?" I demand, the words laced with what is probably too much anger.

Sebastian just smirks at me, edging closer to Red—Clary—as he does it. "We met at the club a couple weeks ago. I… worked it out of her," he explains, giving Clary a side glance I don't like. To make matters worse, she _blushes_ , looking down to avoid my gaze further. _No. Not Sebastian. No way is she giving_ him _a chance before me._ I'm shaking my head furiously, thinking of something to say to Clary to show her that I'm not the kind of guy Isabelle made me out to be. "Could I get you drink, Clarissa?" he offers, gesturing with one hand while the other takes residence on the small of her back.

She smiles up at him kindly, nodding her head, and turning her head over her shoulder to look at me. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but, thinking better of it, snaps it shut and turns back around swiftly. I watch them go in disbelief, my face a mask of hurt. _I refuse to believe that Sebastian and Clary are a_ thing _! He knew how I felt about her from day one!_ I can't tell what I'm more angry about; the fact that Sebastian is trying something with Clary, or the fact that it's working on her.

I stalk off in the opposite direction, knowing I should at least tell Jordan and Maia congratulations before leaving. On my way to the head table, I see Isabelle, staring at me with wide dark eyes full of amazement and regret.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **So NOW THEY KNOW WHO EACH OTHER IS! Where will they go from here? What did Izzy say about Jace that has Clary so upset? Will Jace finally make his move, or has Sebastian swooped in before Jace had a chance?**

 **Find out next week on It's a Small World! Please review! Zikomo!**

 **(P.S. I apologize if I've offended any Mildreds or Prudences reading this. And also any Commodores or Erasmus', from last week's entry.)**

 **(P.P.S. So few people reviewed last week, that I can call them out. THANK YO** **U MMCucumbertoot, Deedlitto, Guest, Flora Silverthrush, and b-imaginative!)**


	10. Week 10

**Quick thing: When you get to the phone call part, the person on the other line will be in italics. It shouldn't be too difficult to differentiate the phone call from thoughts, hopefully…**

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

December 5-

I watch the people hustling down the street with disinterested eyes, another unfinished sketch of Jace sitting in my lap. _Jace. By the Angel, why did Blondie have to be Izzy's pig cousin? He was so perfect, I never would have guessed that he was the same person. He was always so easy to be with, not trying too hard or acting like a douchebag. Then again, Sebastian is a perfect gentleman, so maybe Jace picked up a thing or two from him._

I release a sigh, checking the time—8:00—and shifting in my window seat. _Sebastian is a gentleman alright. As if sensing I needed rescuing, he whisked me away from Jace and all the confusion he brings, providing the perfect distraction. When he lead me onto the dancefloor, I was pleasantly surprised to find that he was a good dancer. He kept talking to me, pleasant conversation flowing between us with a shocking ease. By the time the night was over, he had effectively diverted my thoughts from Jace, and when he asked if he could call me sometime, I agreed._

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't notice Isabelle sitting across from me until she speaks. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. I look over at her in confusion, a question already forming on my lips. "I know you must be really confused about your feelings for Jace, and I can't help but feel at least semi-responsible. It was me, afterall, who first described Jace to you as a cocky manwhore. I was fresh out of college, and still really angry at him for sleeping with my college roommate. It ruined my relationship with both my roommate, and him."

"It's not your fault, Izzy. Jace sleeps around, and I—I can't do that." I pat her on the shoulder lovingly, not wanting her to feel responsible for the end of my crush.

"But that's the thing. _Jace_ sleeps around, or at least he used to… But _Blondie_ , the bartender, he sounds like a really nice guy, Clary. Haven't you at least considered the possibility that he's changed?" she asks tentatively, leaning her head against the cold window.

"Of course I have," I answer honestly. "But the fact is that even if he _has_ changed, he isn't interested in me. I mean I gave him my number almost two weeks ago, and I still haven't heard from him."

"Maybe he's nervous?" she suggests. After seeing my incredulous look, she nods her head knowingly. "Okay, it's not very likely, but who knows? The Jace I saw with you at the wedding didn't act at all like the Jace I knew growing up." I chew on my bottom lip in silence, staring out the window some more as I contemplate what my best friend is telling me. "I think you should hear him out. Then you can decide where to go from there… Go to the bar," she instructs softly, before getting up off the chair and walking into the kitchen.

It doesn't take me long to realize that my best friend is right as usual, and in a matter of minutes I'm rising up too. As I'm shoving my feet into my rain boots my phone rings, an unknown number flashing across the screen. _Jace._

I scramble to answer it, hating how breathless my voice sounds when I answer. "Hello?"

" _Hello, Clarissa? This is Sebastian Verlac._ "

I can't help the small twinge of disappointment, before shaking it off and focusing on the man who actually _called_ me. "Oh! Hey Sebastian. Um, what's up?" I ask ungracefully.

" _There is nothing much new with me since I saw you last. I was hoping, however, that you might be interested in grabbing a late dinner with me_ ," he asked, sounding confident but giving me the option to decline if I wanted.

 _Do I want to go out with him? I know I said that he could call me, but now that he_ is _, I'm having second thoughts… Oh well. I might as well give him a chance; he's always been so nice to me._ "Sure, that sounds fine. When were you thinking?"

" _Tonight, if that does not make me out to be too eager._ " He chuckles softly, the sound invading my eardrums with elegance.

I chew my lip thoughtfully, making a quick decision. "Pick me up at 8:30?"

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

December 5-

I watch the door like a hawk, hoping against hope that Clary will walk through like she has every Monday for the last two and a half months. _I just need time to explain. Explain that I'm not that kind of guy anymore. Isabelle was right to call me a manwhore, but I've changed since I met Clary. Once I tell her that, I'm sure she'll give me a chance. She just has to. I don't believe that she doesn't feel what I do between us._

The minutes drag by agonizingly slow, 8:00 drifting into 8:30 with all the enthusiasm of a toddler heading to time-out. When 10:00 finally rolls around I close the bar quickly, scowl twisting my face into an unattractive expression. _She didn't come. What if she never shows up again?_ I shake my head violently, walking briskly towards my apartment. _I gotta get her out of my head. I can't take this—her constant presence in my mind. She's always there, no matter what I'm doing or who I'm talking to. I have to put an end to this._

After swinging by my apartment to change quickly into a black button up and clean jeans, I head to my best friend Alec's fiance's club, 'Tovenaar.' _Magnus is practically family. Surely he'll let me in without waiting outside for an hour?_

Sure enough, less than an hour later I'm inside, ordering my second drink and being hit on by the fifth or sixth girl. They all pass in a blur, none of them catching my attention until a girl with red hair saunters up to the bar.

I watch intently until I realize that this girl is not Clary at all. _She's tall, and has blue eyes. And her hair is quite obviously dyed, not natural like Clary's… No, Jace. Stop it._ She catches me watching her and scoots closer to me, making it known just how interested she is. She has a pretty face caked with makeup, and an hourglass figure wrapped tightly in a shimmery dress. _Normally my kind of girl. And she seems tipsy already, which makes this easier._

"Hi gorgeous," I greet her, smirking before taking a large gulp of my whiskey.

She grins and takes a sip of her own drink, looking at me through eyelashes so coated in black goop that I think they must be heavy. "Hey yourself. You here with anyone?" she asks, getting straight to the point. _Geez, she's not even gonna make me work for it? Clary would be dismissing such ridiculous pursuits— Stop thinking about Clary. You're trying to_ forget _about her._

"Not at the moment. What did you have in mind?" _I know exactly what she has in mind. Something that doesn't possess its natural appeal, because she isn't Clary— Fuck! Knock it off!_

She nods her head toward the storage room by the bathrooms, her hand caressing my bicep. I wink at her before standing up, letting her lead me across the dancefloor. We sneak into the small room, and before my eyes have a chance to adjust to the darkness her hands are on me, grabbing at my shirt and all but forcing herself on me. _Why isn't this working for me? Am I not drunk enough? I used to enjoy this, right? Okay, just focus. You have a pretty girl kissing you, so kiss her back. Red hair, green eyes—no blue eyes,_ blue _eyes! Dammit, Jace!_

I squeeze my eyes closed and kiss her back, trying to get lost in the feeling. But all I can focus on is how wrong it feels. How making out with her doesn't even begin to compare to the feeling I get when I'm even in the same _room_ as Clary. How her dyed hair is too rough and stringy, and her body too bony. How the kiss is too sloppy, and she's using too much tongue, and her hands are too desperate against me.

I break off the kiss in frustration, holding the girl— _I don't even know her name_ —away at arm's length. "I can't do this," I tell her urgently, backing away towards the door. _I have to get out of here… This entire thing just feels wrong._

"Seriously?" she questions in a high voice, agitation obvious with her cocked hip and furrowed eyebrows.

I don't respond, rushing out of the storage room and through the crowded club, not stopping until I'm on the sidewalk outside. I take a few deep breaths of cold air to gain my composure before whipping my phone out, dialing the number by heart and pressing it to my ear.

It rings three times before she answers. " _Hello?_ " her voice sounds groggy, and I slap myself for not checking the time before I called.

"We need to talk," I tell her simply, walking down the sidewalk in the general direction of my apartment.

" _Okay? So talk?_ "

"Isabelle," I breathe, frustrated. "Why would you tell Red those things about me?"

" _Red? Oh, you mean Clary… Wait, you're calling about_ Clary _?_ " she asks, sounding confused.

"Yes," I snap. "I can't believe you told her all of these bad things about me, Iz. She'd never even met me, and you basically told her how to feel about me." _I know it was true, but now things might be past repair._

" _Jace, you_ are _a manwhore… Or you were, when I told her_ ," she clarifies.

"I'm different now, Isabelle," I tell her, almost sounding like I'm begging her. _You wouldn't know that though, would you? Since you basically stopped talking to me after the roommate incident._

She's silent on the other line, for what might have been seconds but my mind made out to be minutes, before she says softly, " _You really like her, don't you?_ "

I let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing my hand down my face as I come up on the entrance to my apartment building. "Izzy—"

" _You do. I saw your face at the wedding, Jace. I could tell._ "

"Yes, okay? I like her. I like her _a lot_ , but now it's ruined, because she probably thinks I'm a pig…" I trail off, thinking back to the situation I was in just five minutes ago. _That's different, I would never do that if I had Clary. Hell, the only reason I did this tonight was to get her out of my head… And it was unsuccessful as shit!_

I hear some rustling in the background before a door shuts. When she speaks again her voice is hushed, " _Look, I'll try to do some reputation repair. I really am sorry about this situation, Jace. I actually think you two would be really great together, if you can keep it in your pants._ "

"I care about her, Iz," I tell her, finding myself staring unseeingly up at my apartment.

She sighs on the other end of the call, and I'm worried she'll shut me down before she whispers, " _I'll see what I can do._ "

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Clary's going on a date with Sebastian! Thoughts? He's playing nice, so there's that. Next week will be jam packed with lots of drama, so come prepared.**

 **For those who are curious, Magnus' club Tovenaar means warlock in Dutch, which I chose because he was born in the Dutch East Indies and I'm creative as fuck.**

 **See you next week! Good luck on your finals if you have them this week! Please keep the reviews coming! You made my fucking WEEK last time! Grazie!**


	11. Week 11

**Clary's POV:**

December 12-

After roughly ten minutes of pacing in front of Wayland's, I finally open the door, warm air wafting over me. Jace is the first thing that catches my eye like always, and I stand stock-still, staring. _I can't believe I thought I had a chance. He's_ Jace _. I doubt he ever really liked me…_ As I have that depressing thought I take my usual seat, shedding my coat. Soon enough he comes over, and I give him a timid smile. "Hey Blondie."

"You're back," he says, astonished. I nod my head anxiously. _Did he not want me to come back?_ "I'm surprised. Glad! But, surprised."

A nervous laugh escapes my laugh and I bite down on my lip quickly. "Why?"

My eyes follow his movement as he scratches the back of his neck. "I dunno… I just kinda figured you hated me now."

My heart softens at the admission, and I hurriedly shake my head. "Jace, no… I hate that our only presidential candidates were Trump and Hilary. I hate that all the cars I like have horrible gas mileage. I hate that wearing my glasses all day makes my face really oily."

"You wear glasses?" he asks with a smirk, cutting me off.

"My point is," I continue with a roll of my eyes, "that I do not hate you, Jace. I'm not sure I ever really could." We share a sweet smile, and for a moment I think that maybe he _has_ changed, and that I'm someone special to him, even if only a friend. Then Sebastian appears, almost out of thin air, and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I gasp in surprise but recover quickly, smiling at him. "Hey Sebastian."

He shoots me a wink before turning to Jace, and I mirror his action. Jace's tawny eyes are wide, full of an emotion I can't quite describe. His mouth is open in a scowl, and the groove between his eyebrows would put the Marianas Trench to shame. "Jace?" I start softly, not sure why he's so upset.

"I— uh," he stutters, then shakes his head furiously. " _What the hell?_ "

It clicks suddenly, that Sebastian hadn't informed Jace of our new status. "Sebastian! You didn't tell him!?"

He simply grins and leans back in his chair, not taking his eyes off Jace. "I wanted it to be a surprise, of sorts."

I scoff incredulously. "Would've been nice to let me in on it! Now he's _real_ surprised, I mean look at his face!" I look back to see that Jace's face had morphed into one of distant uninterest.

"You must relax, Clarissa," Sebastian says sounding slightly annoyed. "It is all in good fun, as I am certain Jace knows." He raises an eyebrow at Jace in question, smirk still firmly in place.

Though it takes a couple seconds for Jace to respond, when he does his voice is calm. "Of course. Congratulations, you two." Without another word he turns on his heel and walks away.

The rest of the night passes with little conversation from anyone. I eat my wings and watch my wrestling, drinking my usual two beers. Sebastian watches Jace and I with curious eyes as he drinks his bourbon. And Jace works diligently around the bar, not stopping to talk unless he's getting Seb another refill.

I know Seb is drinking pretty heavily for a Monday, but I don't want to overstep seeing as how we've only been on one date. When he finishes his fourth drink, I lean over to him. "Hey, Seb. Are you done drinking?" I ask softly, trying not to sound judgemental.

He turns to me so swiftly that if it weren't for the haze in his eyes I'd swear he wasn't affected by the drinks. "I am a grown man, Clarissa. I know how much I can drink." His words aren't unkind, but the way he isn't blinking lets me know that he doesn't want to talk about it. _Good job, Clary. You pissed him off._

"Okay," I reply, nodding slowly. "Well, the meet just ended, so I'm gonna go." I put my coat on hastily and walk to the door, not seeing Jace so I could say goodbye.

I'm not even a block away when Sebastian grabs my arm. "I apologize. I have an exceptionally high tolerance to alcohol, so I often forget how it might look to others," he explains, ducking his head to look at me.

I wave off his apology, facing him under the street light. "It's okay Sebastian."

He gives me a kind smile, and next thing I know he's kissing me, lips rough and persistent on mine. Although I'm not sure what caused this, it's not unpleasant, and I soon find myself kissing him back. Only a couple minutes go by before he pulls back, placing a stray hair behind my ear. "I beg my pardon, Clarissa," he says quietly, though he looks anything but sorry. "It is much too easy to get carried away."

I blush and look down under the intensity of his gaze. "That's alright."

He smiles and kisses my cheek softly. "Clarissa… Would you be interested in accompanying me home tonight?"

 _We've only had one date, does he really think I'm gonna put out? I'm not ready for that._ "I'm sorry, Seb. I have work tomorrow."

His eyes narrow for a split second, but it's gone so soon I convince myself I imagined it. "Of course, my apologies. How awfully forward of me. Perhaps you will still allow me to call you?" he asks hopefully, and I can't help but nod. He grins, all signs of shame gone. "Have a wonderful night, Clarissa."

I watch him walk away, confusion written on my face. _I can't sleep with him… Right?_

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

December 17-

Sebastian and I are in a cab to my apartment after our second successful date. When he leans in to kiss me I respond, though we pull away rather quickly. He lets out a sigh and falls back against the seat, and I can't stop myself from asking, "What's wrong, Seb?"

He rolls his head to face me. "I am utterly fatigued. The week has not been kind to me at work, I am afraid," he explains. I nod my head understandingly, rubbing his arm in a comforting gesture. "Might I…? No, nevermind."

"What is it?" _Might as well hear him out, right?_

"I was about to inquire if I could stay at your residence only for tonight, but I absolutely understand if that is out of the question." He leans back against the chair, eyes closing as he grasps my hand in his.

 _It's not a_ completely _horrible idea… It's not like he'll try anything if I ask him not to. And besides, Izzy will be home._ "I don't see why not," I answer as the cab pulls up in front of my complex. "Why don't you come up?"

He straightens in his chair. "Are you certain?"

The cabbie sighs impatiently, and I shoot him an annoyed glance before tugging on Sebastian's arm. "Yeah. Come on." He grins and follows enthusiastically, trailing behind me as we make our way up the stairs.

I'm having trouble unlocking the stubborn door, when I'm saved by Izzy. She looks surprised as she takes in Sebastian standing beside me. " _Sebastian_? What are you doing here?"

Sebastian smirks, entering the apartment behind me and leaning against the wall. "Surely Clarissa must have told you that we are romantically involved now," he investigates.

"Yeah, but…" she trails off, looking at me with suggestive eyes. I shake my head shortly, not wanting Sebastian to see our silent conversation. "Okay… Anyway, I'm heading out. Catarina got sick at work, and I'm next in rotation to cover," she explains, grabbing her keys. "I'll… see you guys later?" With that she leaves, the door shutting behind her. _Shit…_

I turn to Sebastian, smiling nervously as I walk past him into my bedroom. "Umm… So this is it. I'll just—I'll be right back," I mutter, hurrying into the bathroom across the hall to change into my pajamas. _Okay, Clary. Calm down. He's a nice guy. Just tell him upfront that you don't want to do anything tonight. Don't mislead him, and it'll be fine._

I exit in my fluffy pants and thermal shirt, taking a steadying breath before entering my room— to find Sebastian already asleep on my bed. I grin and release a soft chuckle before turning out the light and climbing in beside him, trying to relax next to him. I'm not sure how much time passes, but just as I'm on the edge of unconsciousness, Seb's arm winds around my waist to pull my back flush against his chest. I gasp but don't move, thinking about how innocent the motion is all things considered. I let my muscles relax again, and when that doesn't work I count sheep. When I get to my 57th sheep, Sebastian's hand wanders down to the hem of my pants, and I freeze.

"Sebastian," I whisper, hoping that against all odds, that he's still asleep.

"Yes Clarissa?" he answers. I turn around to face him, prepared to give him a piece of my mind. "Is this alright?" he asks, hand going back to my pants, tugging lightly on the elastic.

"No!" I snap, slapping his hand away before getting up out of bed.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" he asks, and I'm struck by how annoyed he sounds. _He's never sounded this angry. I'll admit I don't know him that well, but he's never been this hostile._

"I don't want to have sex yet, Seb," I tell him, going for honesty.

He lets out a short laugh, void of all amusement. "And why the hell not? I mean we have been on two dates. Should we not be past the part where you play coy?"

I suck in a breath, surprised at his comment. "I am not playing _coy_ , Sebastian, and it'll take more than two dates to get in my pants," I explain indignantly. He stands up to face me, his face menacing in the darkness of my room. "You may not have to work very hard with other girls, but I am not some _whore_ that—" I hear it before I feel it, the sound echoing in my head. I stand in stunned silence as pain tingles in my cheek. _He hit me…_

"You will never talk to me that way," he instructs. "Do you understand, Clarissa?" I nod slowly, shock leaving me speechless. He sighs heavily, walking until he's standing in front of me. "I am so sorry, Clarissa. _So_ sorry. I was entirely out of line, and it shall never happen again, I assure you."

I don't move, don't speak for what must have been minutes. He curses quietly before leaning down and kissing me softly on the cheek. _The cheek that isn't bruising…_ "I will leave now. I apologize, again, for my behavior. I would blame it on my exhaustion, but there is no valid excuse. I will be seeing you, Clarissa." He gives me a soft look before walking out of my room, shutting my front door behind him.

I don't move from my spot until I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes accompanying the sting in my face. I back up until I'm against the wall, and slide down so I'm curled into a ball, arms going around my legs automatically. I'm in too much shock to properly cry, tears streaming silently down my warm face as I sit in the stillness of the night.

 _How did I let this happen?_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay, so lots of Clabastian in this chapter. I know some of you are probably unhappy with me, and I don't blame you, but I've had a Sebastian once, and think it's important for me to deal with it alongside Clary. So haters can kiss my ass.**

 **Anyway, do you think Clary is staying with Sebastian? Are Jace and/or Izzy going to find out? We'll find out next week!**

 **Keep the reviews and comments coming! Hvala ti!**


	12. Week 12

**Jace's POV:**

December 19-

 _Fucker. Good-for-nothing douchebag. What a damn stupid asshole. Been my friend since we were teenagers and now he sweeps in to steal my girl? My Clary? It's not like I own her or anything, but he knows how I feel about her goddammit—_

The bell above the front door breaks me from my angry thoughts, and I look up to see Clary walking in. An easy smile instantly appears on my face, like it always does when she's around, but she doesn't even look at me. _Have I done something wrong? I know I was pretty distant after Sebastian kissed her, but who can blame me? She thought I was just surprised, but I was_ crushed _. Shit, I still am…_

I walk over to where Clary is sitting, face resting peacefully in the palm of her hand. She gives me a small smile when I approach, but it doesn't reach her eyes and I instantly know something is off. I'm about to ask about it when the door opens again, and in strolls Sebastian. _Like he fucking owns the place, and Clary, too. Both of which should be taken care of by me._ When Sebastian sits next to her she looks surprised to see him here. I see her posture stiffen but it's barely noticeable, and a smile that almost looks real takes place on her freckled face.

"Hi Jace," he greets me kindly, as if he's never wronged me. "Hello Clarissa." He leans in to kiss her cheek, and she shifts but doesn't pull away. She smiles bigger, but there's something off about it.

 _Maybe because she's still resting her head on her hand. Why is she sitting like that?_ My question is answered when she straightens up to face us both. A faint blossom of light colors—blue, purple, and a nasty shade of yellow—decorates her face, like someone used eyeshadow instead of blush on her right cheek bone. " _Clary_ ," I suck in a harsh breath, fury overwhelming me as I imagine how she got the bruise.

Her eyes widen in fear, and her mouth parts as she remembers the injury. "It's nothing, Jace," she assures me, but I can't even think straight with all the rage and confusion swirling around inside.

" _Who did this to you_ ," I demand, trying to relax when she winces at my harsh tone.

"No one," she rushes. "I did it." I raise an eyebrow questioningly, and after her eyes dart to Sebastian's examining gaze, she continues. "You know me, I'm such a klutz. I used way too much effort to open a door that I _thought_ was an automatic door, and hit myself in the face. It was so embarrassing, I almost died." She laughs awkwardly, half hiding her bruised cheek behind her hair, but I'm not buying it and I think she can tell. When Sebastian leans back in his chair I notice her visibly relax as well. _No… He wouldn't…_

Before I can even think of what body part of Sebastian's to pummel first, he is standing up, placing his coat back on his body. "I just recalled, I have a business call to attend to. I shall be seeing you both soon," he promises, sending Clary a look I can only describe as threatening. _He did. I can tell. I swear I am going to kill him._

By the time he's out the door I'm hyperventilating, my body quite literally shaking with rage. "Blondie…" Clary starts softly, but I stop her with a glance.

"He hit you," I state, not bothering to ask something I already know. She opens her mouth to argue, but I stop her. I don't want to hear any more lies to protect him. "Don't even try to deny it, Clary. I saw how you acted around him. I saw the way he looked at you, like he owns you or something."

Her silence is answer enough, and I can't stop myself from cursing loud and slamming my fist down on the counter, hating the way she flinches. Clary shakes her head slowly, not looking at me, but focusing on a loose thread on her shirt sleeve. _Calm down, Jace. You don't want to scare her off. She needs to know that she can trust you. Relax._ I start counting backwards, knowing it usually calms me down relatively quickly. _100, 99, 98, 97, 96—_

"I can't leave him, Jace," she tells me, shifting her gaze to her tightly clasped hands. _Yes you can! Leave him,_ please _! Leave him for me, be with_ me _!_ Then I process the words she said, and the meaning behind them. ' _Can't' not 'won't'. She doesn't want to be with him._ "You don't know what he'll do; no one does. I can't make him angry, Jace, I can't—" she cuts off, bottom lip trembling slightly before she stops it between her teeth. _This bastard will pay. I swear on the Angel, he will pay for hurting her._

"He won't hurt you anymore, Clary," I promise, startling both of us with the intensity in my voice. Her green eyes still look hesitant, so I continue. "I won't _let_ him hurt you." She gives me a small smile before grabbing my hand affectionately, and I know that I have never been more serious about anything before in my life. _I know you don't know this, Red. But I am falling for you. So damn quick, and so damn hard. Probably too hard for only knowing you three months… I care about you, and I will protect you with my life, if that's what it takes._

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

December 20-

 _It's five o'clock. Just two hours left._ I groan out loud, so ridiculously passed ready for my twelve hour shift to end. I walk back to my desk slowly, having just checked up on one of my patients. I sit down heavily at my computer, rubbing tiredly at my eyes when the conversation of a fellow nurse catches my attention. "Yeah. Wayland is good to go at the end of the hour, but Verlac might need to stay a little longer. At least until the bleeding stops."

I quickly swivel my chair to face them, certain I must've heard wrong. "Did you say Wayland?"

Helen nods, "Yeah, he—"

" _What room?_ " I cut her off, springing out of my chair.

"315," she answers looking startled. "But you—"

I cut her off, sprinting and all but slamming into the doorframe as I skid to a stop. He's there, golden body covered and his eyes closed softly in unconsciousness. " _Jace_." I rush to his side, hands hovering nervously over his resting figure. _Please let him be okay._

His eyelids flutter momentarily, then slowly open, his golden orbs coming into view and staring at me in awed confusion. "Red?" he questions, obviously disoriented.

"Jace," I breathe, sitting carefully on the edge of his bed. I take in his bruised jaw and knuckles, wincing at the thought of him in pain. "What happened to you?"

He laughs, trying to sit up before I softly push him back down. "I'm fine, Clary. This is all precaution, I was just getting some shut-eye before you came in." _Thank the Angel…_

"What, _happened_ ," I press, letting him sit up now that I know he's okay.

"Sebastian happened," he says simply, shrugging as if that made this okay.

" _Sebastian_ did this to you?" I ask, enraged. _How_ dare _he lay a fucking_ finger _on Jace! I will rip him limb from limb, I swear on the Angel._

"You should see what I did to him," he replies smugly, and I roll my eyes at his usual cocky behavior. _At least his ego wasn't harmed. Why do I like him so much? He's so arrogant… But yet so sweet._

I shake my head at him, fingers tracing the side of his face gently. "Why would you do this, Blondie?"

He leans his face into my palm, so subtly I wouldn't notice if it weren't my hand. "I can't explain it. When I confronted him, he admitted to hitting you and didn't even sound _sorry_. I couldn't handle the thought of him hurting you again, and I just _attacked_ him…" he breaks off with a sigh, a determined look taking place on his face. "No one can hurt you, Clary, and get away with it. Not while I'm around."

"Jace…" I whisper, unable to think of anything else to say. _By the Angel… There's no point in denying it any longer. I don't care if I've only known him three months, I have to at least admit it to myself: I'm falling for him. I'm definitely in like with him._ I lean forward and, silencing the dancing nervousness in my stomach, kiss him on the cheek. _Hot, I know._ I stay there for a couple seconds before pulling away, knowing exactly what I have to do.

Ignoring his questioning look, I give him a small smile before leaving his room, walking down the hall until I find the one Sebastian is in. _More like Sebastard. Fucking scum. It's probably messed up that I'm more angry that he hit Jace than I am that he hit me, but oh well._ He's laid up in bed, face bruised badly and nose packed with gauze. _Sebastian_ is _in worse condition… Good._ He looks up the moment I enter the room, nasty grin opening the split in his lip.

I walk until I'm next to his bed, but make no move to comfort him. "We're done, Sebastian. I should've told you that the second you hit me," I admit, "but it took you hurting one of my friends for me to see clearly. Whatever we had is finished, and I never want to hear from you again."

He looks at me in badly concealed surprise, before it morphs into one of pure hatred. "Think what you like, Clarissa. We both know that we are anything but finished," he says, as simply as one would say 'we both know you're not winning the lottery.' _There's actually a greater chance that I'll win the lottery than there is that I'll get back together with Sebastian_ , I muse as I shoot him a nasty glare and drift slowly back to Jace's room.

 _I like Jace. And if the way he fought Sebastian is any indication, I'm inclined to believe he likes me, too._ I stop at his door, arriving just in time to see him fastening the last buttons on his shirt. "Too bad. The hospital gown was a good look," I joke, making my presence known.

He looks over at me, amusement present in his deep saffron eyes. "Everything is a good look on me," he replies with a smirk.

"Cocky bastard." He chuckles and starts shoving his keys, wallet, and cell phone into his pockets. "Hey, Jace?"

He turns with a cocked head, walking closer when I don't speak at first. "What's up?" he questions, placing a hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

"Thank you… I wish you didn't have to do that. But I'm still thankful that you're… watching out for me and everything…" I look up at him with wide eyes, and he smiles softly before pulling me into a hug. I wrap my arms around his waist, loving the feeling of being this close to him. "And I broke up with him. I mean, we were never really in a relationship, but whatever. We're done," I ramble awkwardly, trying to get the point across.

I feel him start when I tell him that, and relish for a moment in the fact that I can _feel_ instead of _see_ the way his body reacts. One of his hands glides up my back slowly, getting lost in the hair at the nape of my neck and holding me closer. As I let him hold me in the hospital room, I know then and there that I have to get Jace Wayland.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **FUCKING SHIT I POSTED IT ONLINE I SWEAR BUT IT DIDN'T DO THE THING! I'M SORRY IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN THIS IS IT I'LL STILL UPDATE TOMORROW PROMISE!**

 **So Jace found out, and reacted how I'm sure we were all expecting. Seb can rot in hell, and hopefully he won't be back. But ya never know… Mwahaha.**

 **Happy early Christmas, or Hanukkah, or whatever holiday you celebrate in the winter, if any.**

 **Next week is a BIGGIE, so get excited. Tak!**


	13. Week 13

**Clary's POV:**

December 26-

 _Dammit Clary, think. You like Jace. And Jace might actually like you, too, based on how he defended you from Sebastian… And Jace is such an amazing guy. He's so funny. And genuinely nice, not just pretending, like Seb was. And he works so hard here, running Wayland's… He's definitely someone I could be happy with, for a long time. I just don't know what to do now_ , I think, chewing on my lip distractedly. _I trust him, because he's never given me a reason not to. But am I so crazy to be nervous about his infamous past relationships? What if he hasn't actually changed? What if we_ do _try this out, and he hurts me? I can't get hurt again, no like that. Not by Jace..._ I release a sigh, shifting in my chair at the end of the bar.

When Jace comes into view I perk up, smile overtaking my face immediately. He smirks when he sees me, and my heart does a little flip at the look in his eyes, which I'm sure mirror my own. _Does he like me? Izzy sure seems to think so, but she just ships us. She calls us "Clace."_ "Hi Jace. Happy late Christmas," I greet him, grin still in place.

He laughs, looking down at my sweater, which I had all but forgotten about. "You too, Red. Nice sweater."

It has a sheep in the center, with plaid letters that spell out 'Fleece Navidad,' and I chuckle at the pun. "Thanks. I have another one with a picture of a pug wearing a Santa hat, and it says 'Bah, hum-pug!' on it." I laugh awkwardly at my punny sweaters, feeling dorky until he laughs too. _By the Angel he's perfect. Why didn't I just get the lady balls to make my move before Sebastian made his on me? Why didn't I just say no to Sebastian?_

"You want your usual?" he asks after the laughter comes to an easy halt. I nod enthusiastically and grab his Christmas present from where it was leaning against my stool, nerves winding in my stomach. It's a relatively simple, albeit big frame with 'Wayland's' in large lettering. Inside the word I drew the bar building itself, using varying deep tones of gold and red to make the image pop. _I really hope he likes it. I spent quite a long time working on it, so I just wish he'd use it, maybe spruce up the place a little._ When he returns with my beer and wings, he sees the wrapped present sitting next to me on the bar. "What's this?"

"I got you a Christmas present," I admit shyly, shoving the present toward him. _Is it weird that I got him a present? We didn't talk about it at all, I guess I just wanted to show him that he's important enough to me to get a present… I don't want him to feel bad if he didn't get me one, though. I would feel like a piece of shit if someone got me one and I didn't get them anything._

He looks surprised but touched, and when he asks, "You did?" I simply nod in reply.

Jace peels the shiny paper off the rectangle slowly, realization taking place of anticipation when he sees a frame. I watch as he studies it, and my confidence dwindles with every passing second of silence. "Now that I know you own the place, I know no one can stop you from putting up decorations. I know you don't like clutter, but this is something at least," I ramble. "You don't have to hang it up though. Don't feel obligated to. If you don't like it, I can make you something else?"

"You _made_ this?" he asks, eyes wide as they scour every inch of the canvas.

"Yeah…? Do you kinda hate it? It's okay if you do, I—"

"Clary, this is _amazing_. Look at the detail, I thought this was made professionally!" I blush at the compliment, and he rushes on. "I'll definitely hang it up here. Thank you, Red." I smile at him, my face still heated. _He likes it. He likes my art…_ "Oh! Hang on, I have something for you too," he informs me, placing the frame down on the bar carefully before reaching underneath and coming up with a red and green bag. I stare at it in astonishment, but quickly recover and pull out the tissue paper before reaching in and finding a sketch book. "At least now I know mine was on the right track," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, watching my face.

When I pull the sketch book out I hear something inside fall, and see that there's a wide array of art supplies inside, ranging from charcoal to colored pencils. "How did you guess, even before I gave you your present?" I ask in wonder.

He shrugs sheepishly, not making eye contact with me. "You always have paint splotches on your clothes. So I thought you were a school teacher until one day I noticed some black stuff on your fingers, and changed my guess to a felon cause it looked like fingerprint ink," he jokes, wiggling his fingers at me playfully. "But it came off on the napkins, so I realized it must've been lead or something, and that you were an artist."

I grin at him, hugging my new supplies to my chest. "I love them, thank you." _I didn't even tell him I was an artist. He fucking_ guessed _, because he pays attention to me… Would it be weird if I kissed him right now? I want to, so badly. Have wanted to for a long while… No, Clary. Must refrain._ When he finally meets my eyes again, I swear he's thinking the same thing, but I shake my head of the crazy thought. _There is no way that Jace Wayland likes me the way I like him… I couldn't be that lucky._

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

December 31/January 1-

 _It's almost 11:30, I should be home asleep in bed by now,_ I think, rubbing a tired hand down my face. _It is New Year's Eve, though. Yay tips!_

"Heads up!" I duck quickly, just in time to see Will lifting a tray over my head. _Tips, tips, tips,_ I chant, trying to look on the positive side as a headache starts creeping up.

As I let out an irritated groan, I see Clary's red hair slip through the crowd, magically appearing in front of me. All the frustration disappears in her presence, a smile finding its way onto my face as I walk over to her. "Hey Red!" I yell over the loud crowd squished into my bar. "You came!"

She smiles back at me and nods, pointing behind her at Isabelle and Simon, who are making their way through the people slower than Clary's short frame had. I shoot them both a grin, and look back at Clary, noticing for the first time what she's wearing. A dark silvery dress, loose but coming to her mid thigh. _Fuck, she's gorgeous. Why didn't I just have the balls to make my move before Sebastian made his? Why was I ever even friends with Sebastian?_

I'm snapped out of my reverie by Isabelle snapping her fingers in my face, giving me a knowing look. I narrow my eyes at her threateningly before taking their orders and going to work making them. They thank me for their drinks and stand at the bar to talk to me whenever I get a second of peace— which isn't often. The time passes quickly, as it usually does when you're busy, and before I know it it's 11:55.

More people than I would have expected run to grab a partner for the New Year's kiss except for a few choice singles, Clary being one of them. She stands next to Izzy and Simon, the three of them grinning as they watch people frantically searching for someone. A guy near the door moves closer to Clary, and just as I realize he's about to ask Clary to be his midnight kiss, Isabelle shoots him a glare, telling him with her eyes to back the fuck off. _Thank you, Isabelle. I owe you one._

She leans down to say something in Clary's ear, and her green eyes widen as she shakes her head comically. Izzy nods vigorously and continues talking animatedly, obviously trying to convince her to do something. _What though? What doesn't she want to do?_ As I'm watching them intently, Clary turns to talk to Simon and Isabelle catches my eyes to summon me over hurriedly.

 _What are you up to, Izzy…?_ I think nervously, picking my way through the crowd surprisingly fast. "What's up?" I ask her quietly.

"Who's your New Year's kiss?" she asks, way louder than necessary, making several strangers glance at her in annoyance.

I sputter, trying to connect the dots of her plan. "Umm… I-I don't—"

"Oh, you don't have someone to kiss at midnight? Neither does Clary!" she practically screams, switching places with the redhead and shoving her into my arms. _Okay. I owe you_ two _, Isabelle._

Clary flushes furiously, chewing on her bottom lip as she stares up at me with scared wide eyes. _Is the thought of kissing me that horrible?_ "It's alright, we don't have to—"

"It's okay," she interrupts, shifting so she's standing on her own, but still close to me. _She still smells like strawberries and lavender… Why is everything about her so appealing?_

The people start counting down from ten, and I lean down so my mouth is by her ear. "You can think of London if you'd like," I suggest, trying to calm her and myself as well. _It's just a kiss. Just a kiss. Not that big of a deal, it's just a kiss._ She nods her head, soft cheek brushing against mine, and pulls back just far enough to look into my eyes. People cheer and the air horns sound, announcing the new year as I pull her into me, one hand going to the small of her back while the other weaves into her fiery locks. _Just a kiss_ , I think.

And by the Angel, how fucking wrong I was. Our lips meet and literal ass fireworks go off in my head. Somewhere in the back of my mind I know that the fireworks are actually going off outside the bar, but that part of my brain shuts off when Clary's small hands grip my shirt, holding me to her. I kiss her fervently, mouth moving against hers in a synchronization I wouldn't have thought possible for a first kiss. I realize I've been kissing her for much longer than necessary, but frankly I don't give a damn. _I never want to stop kissing her. Never. I swear, if we aren't together after this, I might die._

Someone bumps into me on accident, breaking our kiss, and if I wasn't so enraptured by her wide eyes and parted lips I would be cursing whoever ruined the perfect bubble Clary and I were in just a moment ago. We stare at each other in silence, tense energy going back and forth. _I want to kiss her again._

"Clary!" someone squeals, making her flinch in my arms. She turns around just as Isabelle attacks her, spinning them around excitedly. "Happy New Year!"

Clary laughs and hugs Izzy back before moving on to Simon, coming to a dead stop when she faces me again. _You're staring, Jace. Stop staring. You're probably freaking her out._

I clear my throat, doing my best to hide the adoration I feel for her, and give her my usual smirk. She smiles back at me, and I can't stop my eyes from flicking to her lips and back up to her eyes. _I want to kiss her again. Already. Always._

"Happy New Year, Blondie."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Omigod Clace kiss finally happened, thanks majorly to Izzy! Took them long enough right? Okay fangirl moment over. What do you guys think? Was the description of the kiss good enough? Like I told you guys 3 months ago (wowza), this is my first ever fanfic, so I'm new to all of this.**

 **So please please review, I love all your comments, even the criticism. Dank je!**

 **P.S. I'm so sorry again, for not updating last week. I uploaded the chapter, and then right as I tried to update/add it to the story, my wifi disconnected, so that might've been it. So so infinitely sorry!**


	14. Week 14 Pt 1

**Jace's POV:**

January 2-

 _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit… I kissed her… Holy shit… It was basically magical as fuck… Holy shit. I haven't been able to get that kiss out of my mind since it happened. I barely functioned at all yesterday, barely slept at all last night. I just want to kiss her, smile with her,_ be _with her. I always figured that getting closer to Clary, in any sense of the word, would be amazing. But I never imagined in my wildest dreams that a five foot, freckle faced girl could knock me on my ass with one kiss. Could completely destroy me in the best way. Could make any girl that ever came before her just seem like a bad idea. Why try with these girls, when a girl like Clary was out there somewhere?_

She walks in with Isabelle hot on her trail, both of them laughing. My eyes dart to her lips and back to her eyes before looking at Isabelle quickly. _Not quick enough to get passed Izzy, apparently._ I stick my tongue out at her while Clary's taking off her coat, and she reciprocates. "Hello ladies," I greet them. "What can I get you?"

Clary smiles at me, and once we make eye contact she blushes, looking down. "I'll have the usual, please and thank you. Izzy insisted on tagging along to watch wrestling with me, cause she doesn't really get the hype about it," she finishes, glaring at her friend and roommate like she has a three heads.

Iz shrugs and nods, flicking some raven hair out of her face. "It's true. When someone isn't really interested in something as a whole, but makes an exception for one particular perso- _sport_ , I figured it was about time I see what's so special…" she trails off winking at me, and I glare at her. _Pretty heavy handed there, Iz._ "Anyway, I'll have a seabreeze."

I shake my head and go to work getting their items. _Despite how obnoxious she can be, I have missed Izzy all these years. I'd almost forgotten how much like a little sister she is to me. I just can't mess it up with her roommate… Again_ , I add with a wince. When I place their drinks on the bar I head into the back room to grab Clary's wings. I realize the door should've slammed shut behind me and turn around in confusion to see Isabelle standing there, hip cocked and an impatient look on her face.

"Isabelle? What are you doing back here, this is employees only," I chastise softly.

She simply rolls her eyes, brushing off my comment. "It's all in the family."

"Yeah… The _Wayland_ family?" I emphasize. "What are you doing back here anyway?"

"When are you gonna make your move with Clary? I set things up _beautifully_ last night— you're welcome, _by the way_ — and you didn't do anything to follow up!" she says, arms flailing dramatically.

I rub a hand down my face, before sitting down heavily on an empty crate. "I don't know, Iz. What am I even supposed to do? Even if she _does_ like me that way, she just got out of her thing with Sebastian," I spit his name out venomously.

Izzy flips her hair agitatedly and comes to sit next to me. "Jace, I love you to death, but you're an idiot." When I look at her in confused outrage she continues, "She went on like, two dates with the douchesnozzle, and then she broke it off the same day that _you defended her_. Are you really dense enough to believe that she doesn't like you too?"

"Clary likes me," I state, mind racing. _Clary likes me? I suspected, but she never really did anything to show me… Then again neither did I… Clary likes me._ "So what do I do now?"

She sighs exasperatedly, standing up and walking to the door. "I don't know, _Blondie_. But you'll figure it out," she raises an eyebrow at me threateningly, before leaving me alone.

 _That isn't helpful at all… But she likes me._ Clary _likes me. I can't believe I would be lucky enough to have someone like Clary like me, but apparently it's true… I just don't know what to do about this. I know that I need to talk to her, to ask her on an official date. Or at least, for the love of all that is Holy, use the phone number that she gave me… On my worst days, I could get five girls' phone numbers by the end of the day, but Clary's sweet smile and intelligent eyes turn me into a babbling pile of mush every time she's around._

 _I just need to think about this. I just need to figure out how to smoothly transition from friends with extremely obvious sexual tension, to two people in a relationship. I just need Clary._

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

January 4-

The curator stands up, shaking my hand with a wide smile. "Thank you so much, Ms. Fairchild."

"Of course. Thank you, again, for the opportunity to show my artwork here," I thank her, gathering my coat and messenger bag from the floor by my chair. _My third piece! Omigod, I have to tell my mom. She's gonna flip shit!_ I walk down stairs to the gallery portion of Adelante Studios, placing my coat back on my body. I'm almost to the front door when a certain shaggy blond head catches my attention. _Jace? What is_ he _doing at Adelante?_ I walk over timidly, certain that it's someone else, but of course I'm wrong.

"Clary?" he turns toward me, looking just as astonished as I feel. "What are you doing here?" _Holy shit… He's looking at my artwork. He's standing right there in front of it! Does he know that's my stuff? Does he know I'm Fairchild?_

"Umm," I start intelligently.

"Oh! Ms. Fairchild, I'm so glad I caught you. You forgot your payment," I turn and watch with wide eyes as the curator hurries over to where Jace and I are standing in front of my exhibit, and hands me an envelope. "Admiring your work, I see," she says with a smile. "I do love the uniqueness of your paintings. I hope to see more from you soon, yes?"

I nod silently and she leaves us, Jace staring at me with wide eyes. " _You're_ 'Fairchild'?"

 _Well_ now _he knows I'm Fairchild…_ I turn to him, face scrunched in hesitation. _Does he hate my stuff? He probably thinks it's weird._ "Yeah…?"

"But I thought your last name was Fray?"

"Fairchild is a family name. I like to remain anonymous…" I explain awkwardly.

He's about to talk again when a gallery worker interrupts us, coming in with my new painting that I dropped off for consideration a couple days prior. "'Scuse me, guys. New painting going up right where you're standing." Jace moves out of the way, both of us watching in awe as the worker mounts my new piece.

It's winter in this one, taking place in Rockefeller Center. People are ice skating around the rink. Some families, some friends, and obviously a lot of couples. One couple is standing still on the rink, locked in what looks like a passionate embrace at first. But as you study the couple more, you can see the puncture marks on her neck, bleeding down and darkening the red of her scarf. The fangs on the man, partially hidden behind his coy smile. _Jace probably thinks my art is creepy…_

When I glance over at him, though, he's examining my new piece in wonder, moving closer once the worker is gone. He shakes his head as if to clear it, and then turns to me again, his eyes unreadable. "You're Fairchild," he states, not asking this time. He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head again. "I should have guessed. It shouldn't surprise me at all that the first artist I thoroughly enjoy is the girl I like—" he cuts off, ears growing pink as his eyes grow wide.

 _Jace likes me? Oh, my, god, Jace likes me. Jace likes me!_ I'm screaming in my mind, absolutely fangirling, but on the outside I'm staring at him in shock, mouth hanging open. "You… You like me?"

His eyes finally move from the invisible speck on the wall to my eyes, and I can see the nervousness inside them. "Red, I—" he stops, taking in a deep breath, scrunching his eyes closed. "Yes. I like you, Clary. I like you as more than a friend. I like you. I've liked you for quite some time now, and these feelings are not going to go away. I think it's about time you know that." He nods his head, as if to show he's done talking, breathing hard from rushing all of the words out in one breath.

 _What do I say, what do I_ say _!? Think, Clary, think! He told you how he feels, now you tell him how you feel!_ I command myself, thinking about what Izzy told me earlier— 'You didn't give up on Simon and I, and I'm not giving up on you and Jace. You'd be so great together, and I think you know that. So stop getting in the way of your own happiness, and do something.' _She's right, Clary! You know you're falling for him, just_ be _with him already! Talk! Speak! Don'tyoudarewoofIsweartoGod… Talk to him! You've been silent for way too long! He probably thinks you don't like him back!_ And sure enough, he nods his head again, before walking past me and out the doors of Adelante Studios.

 _You'd be so great together…_ My feet start moving of their own accord, drawing me out of the double doors of the studio. I'm jumping up, looking in all directions for a tall mop of golden hair. _Stop getting in the way of your own happiness…_ I see him just a block away, and soon I'm sprinting, weaving through the crowd, pushing people aside with my elbows and not bothering to apologize. Then he's right there, back towards me, but close enough to touch if I reach forward. "Jace." He freezes, turning to face me slowly. _Do something…_

I lunge forward, hands clasping around his neck as I pull his face down to mine. Jace gasps against my lips, and for one heartbreaking moment I think I'm too late, that by not reciprocating his feelings earlier I made him change his mind. My fears are destroyed when he kisses me back forcefully, hands cupping my face and splaying into my hair. I know people are judging us by the scoffs I hear from passersby, but I shut it all out and kiss him harder, trying to convey how I feel about him. _If I was good with words I would tell you, Jace, just exactly how much I like you too. Actually, I wouldn't tell you_ exactly _how much, cause I'm pretty sure the first time you hear about my feelings you don't want to hear that I'm falling in love with you._

"Why did it take this long for this to happen?" Jace asks, smiling as he pulls away breathless.

 _Maybe because I thought you were a huge player, and a small part of me is afraid you still are?_ He leans his forehead on mine and I can't help the giddy laugh that escapes as I close my eyes. "Honestly? The thought of being with you kinda terrifies me," I confess.

He takes a step back from me and my arms fall to my sides, feeling upsettingly empty. When I open my eyes in confusion, I'm surprised to see his mood has shifted entirely. His hands are in his hair, tugging restlessly at the ends as he stares at me with desperation in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Clary. So sorry. I— we shouldn't have done this," he states, turning and walking away from me abruptly.

 _By the Angel. It should not be this hard for two people to get together._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Isabelle's wisdom! Lord I love her. And Jace finally tells Clary how he feels! But why did he walk away so suddenly? Is he changing his mind?**

 **Also, there's a third part to this week (exciting, I know), but it's long enough to be its own entry, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll post it on Friday, which is when it takes place in the story.**

 **I know I'm posting this update late, but my dad went to the ER and I couldn't access FanFic on my cell, soo... Yeah. Anyway here ya go!**

 **Keep reviewing, you awesome people! Dankon!**


	15. Week 14 Pt 2

**Clary's POV:**

January 6-

I'm leaning heavily against the bar waiting for my second mojito when a golden man dressed in all black appears at my right. "How you doing, Red?" _Jace._ I look over and straighten instantly, not sure how to act around him. _We like each other. We should be together, but when I told him I was nervous he acted like I said that his favorite movie looked better in the previews, and walked away._

"Fine I suppose. You?" I ask politely, twisting a strand of hair nervously behind my back.

"Alright… Who are you here with?" he asks kindly, glancing around he bar.

I point back to the group of girls surrounding a table in the back corner. "My sorority sisters. Once a year we meet to catch up and have fun," I explain. _Who are_ you _here with, Jace? Looking for someone to pick up?_

He looks at me, surprised. "You were in a sorority?" _Most find it surprising when they find out that I was in a sorority in college, and I can't blame them. I am definitely not the girliest person out there— Isabelle had to convince me to wear this poor excuse for a dress— but I wouldn't give up my Sisters for anything._

"Yup," I answer shortly, having received my drink and wanting to get back to my girls. "See you around, Jace."

When I get back to my sorority sisters, they're all watching me with keen interest. "Ooh, who is that?" one, Camille, inquires, nodding her head over to Jace.

"Oh, that's Jace," I answer, trying to ignore the appreciative looks they're all giving him.

"Nice Clary! I'm proud of you," she says, winking suggestively.

"Oh, no! It's not like that," I correct her, feeling my cheeks burn. "He just works at a bar that I frequent. We're friends." _Even though we should be_ more _than friends…_

"So he's fair game?" another girl, Aline, asks, perking up.

I narrow my eyes at her, though I know I have no real right to be jealous. "What?"

"Mr. Hottie over there. Is he fair game?" I look over my shoulder at Jace, who's watching me with a smirk on his face. I turn back around hastily, chewing my bottom lip as I think. Aline laughs, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. "I'm gonna take that as a no," she winks.

I chuckle nervously before walking away from the group, pulling out my phone. When she answers, I can't talk fast enough. "Izzy! I need help!"

" _What is it? Did someone drug your drink? Do you need cab money?_ " she asks hurriedly, automatically switching to mother bear mode.

"No, it's—"

She interrupts me, " _Did you have your first drunken hookup? It happens to all of us, Clary, it'll be okay—_ "

"Isabelle!" I cut her off, outraged. "No! It's about Jace."

" _Ooh! What about him?_ " I hear shuffling in the background.

"He's here at Pandemonium, and one of my sorority sisters asked if he was fair game, and I wasn't even sure how to respond because, I don't know! He knows I like him, but he just walked away on Wednesday. What should I do about him? Should I try to make amends?" I ask, running a hand through my hair.

" _Yes!_ " she screams, making me wince. " _Just go talk to him! You look hot!_ "

I roll my eyes, feeling childlike and altogether unworthy next to my tall, beautiful sorority sisters. I look over to where Jace was standing by the bar, and feel my heart drop when I see a blonde bombshell pressing herself up against him. She is caressing his arm and smiling at him sexily, and while he doesn't seem really happy, his eyes are on her. "Iz…" I trail off, despair coursing through my veins.

" _What? What happened? I lost you there for a minute._ "

"It's not gonna happen…" I tell her, walking in the general direction of my Sisters.

" _What? Why not! Just go talk to him, don't be a chicken_ ," she accuses.

"I'm not! There's some bimbo wrapped around him like vines on a tree." I pout, all but sticking out my bottom lip.

" _The fuck!? Clare bear, I'm sorry… Maybe he will tell her off?_ " she suggests hopefully.

I watch as Jace winks, giving her a panty-dropping grin. "Nope. Not even close."

" _Ugh. After everything I've done! Boys are so stupid. You know he likes you, he's just upset. I doubt that he is even thinking about hooking up with her._ "

I grin, even though she can't see my gratitude. "This is why I need you in my life."

" _Anytime. Now hang up with your roommate, and go drink and have fun with your friends. Get a hot guy's attention to make Jace jealous!_ "

"Ha! Yeah, I'll do that," I say sarcastically. I hang up and take big gulps of my drink until I find there is nothing left but ice. I lift my empty glass to tell my friends where I'll be, and head back to the bar.

As I wait for my drink, I can't help but let my eyes wander to the other end, where the two blond heads are dangerously close together. _Damn Jace. He tells me he likes me, and I kiss him, which I think is pretty damn self-explanatory thank you very much. But now he's here, flirting his ass off with her? What the fresh hell!? What kind of game is that!?_ I'm broken out of my fuming state by a tap on my shoulder.

When I look over I am met by pale skin, black hair, and black eyes. _Sebastian—_

"Are you alright, miss?" he asks, a slightly english accent invading my eardrums pleasantly. _Not Sebastian. Just a nice guy. There are other guys with black hair and eyes, Clary. Chill._

"I'm fine," I answer kindly. "Why do you ask?" The bartender arrives, handing me my drink and I take a few sips.

He chuckles, leaning against the bar next to me. "You just looked like you were angry about something, and I wanted to make sure you were okay… I'm Zach," he introduces himself.

"Nice to meet you," I reply, shaking his hand and giving him a sweet smile. _He's cute. Not as similar to Sebastian as I had originally thought. His coloring is just a dark brown. And his eyes are more almond shaped, filled with laughter instead of coldness._

He smiles back at me, releasing my hand. I feel his eyes on me as I sip my drink, but he's not creepy about it. "I wonder if— I mean… Would you like to dance?" he asks, obviously nervous. _I wonder if Jace is a good dancer_ , I think, and stomp down on the thought immediately.

Instead of answering, I swallow a mouthful of my drink and grab his hand, pulling him slowly to the dancefloor. I am pleasantly surprised to find that he's a good dancer, and I soon lose myself in the beat and the sway of our hips. I think I catch a glimpse of Jace glaring at me through the crowd but I shake it off, and dance with Zach for a couple more songs. After the third song, I walk away to go to the bathroom.

When I leave the bathroom, Zach is waiting outside. He grabs my arm gently, nodding his head toward the back door. When I don't argue, he pulls me out into an alley. He's soon kissing me, and I go with it because he's a good enough kisser. _I am a young, independent woman! I'm aloud to have some fun with a stranger, because he's a good kisser! Not like Jace though… Stop it!_

As his hands go down my body, he's ripped away from me by a furious looking Jace. He shoots Zach a murderous glare, not saying a word as his fists clench at his sides. Zach shoots me a disbelieving look before shaking his head and walking back inside. Once he's gone, Jace turns to me and runs his hands over my face and arms, as if making sure I'm okay. "Clary? Hey, are you alright Red? He's gone, ba—"

I whirl on him, anger boiling up from days of confusion and frustration. "Who the hell do you think you are? I was having a perfectly fine time with him, and now he probably thinks you're my boyfriend or some shit! I mean do I look like I'm trying to _fend off_ guys in a tighter-than-skin dress and heels higher than your IQ? No, I don't think so!"

Jace is stunned for second before his face turns to one of anger as well. "He dragged you into an _alley_ , Clary! How about a little thank you for stepping in when things weren't looking so good? Besides, it's not like you were planning on sleeping with him. You're better than that."

I scoff incredulously. "Ha! Like you're one to judge, Jace. Don't you have some bottle blonde bimbo to attend to?"

Jace is silent for a second, but there is unexplained happiness in his eyes. "I'm not better than that," he states simply, smirk falling into place as he watches me.

I feel that statement like a slap to the face, and take a step back. "Oh my God, seriously? Because Izzy has been trying to convince me since Jordan's wedding that you _are_."

He winces, and I feel a small victory that I am at least getting through to him. Then his eyes narrow, and he looks at me closely. "Why are you so upset, Red? Tell me."

"Because I like you, Jace!" I yell at him, arms flailing. "Dammit! I don't want to like you, but I feel like I have no choice in the matter and that is really fucking frustrating!"

"Why don't you want to like me?" he asks, crossing his arms defensively.

"By the Angel, you are such an idiot! …Can't you see that I'm scared shitless?" _How come he can usually read me so well, but when it comes to_ him _, he has no clue as to what I'm thinking?_

"... I would never hurt you Clary," he whispers, and I feel my shoulders relax a little, touched.

"I know Jace, that's not what I _mean_. You're nothing like Sebastian."

"Then what—"

"You could still hurt me… In other ways." Jace looks confused and stays silent so I continue, "I know I'm not the most interesting person in the world, and definitely not the prettiest… You're used to the leggy blondes, or the busty brunettes, or—"

"Clary, you are the most interesting person I have ever met. And the most beautiful girl I've ever met. And I connect with you, in a way I never have with anyone else. I've known you four months, and already I feel like my world revolves around you. I'm learning the ways of wrestling, and my favorite day of the week turned from Friday or Saturday night to Monday night. I'm 27, and I _look forward_ to Mondays, because of you. Every time I see you outside of the bar, it only makes me like you more, because I get a glimpse into what your life is like, and I want to know all of it. I want to know all of you."

I only stare at him, mouth open, unable to form words, but Jace is on a roll and keeps going, "Izzy was right, when she told you that her cousin is a man whore. But I'll tell you something, Red, I haven't slept with anyone since I met you. I tried to, once, to get you out of my head, but I couldn't even go through with it cause you were still _there_ in my mind, and it just felt wrong, and I couldn't hurt you, Clary, even back then, and—"

"Jace! For fuck's sake shut the hell up!" He does, and now he's looking at me with wide eyes, breathing hard from his speech. I wrack my brain for something to say, anything that could somehow compare to what he said, to how he completely laid it all on the line for me. All I could come up with was, "Kiss me."

I barely have time to breathe before he's on me, pressing my back against the alley wall. He grabs and pulls at me, bringing me impossibly closer to him, and my breath is ragged in my own ears as he touches me everywhere all at once. My hands move against him too, feeling the hard cords of muscle under his black t-shirt. When I raise a leg and wrap it around his waist he groans against my mouth, hands clutching at my thighs. And our kisses taste like vodka and mint, and _if I wasn't falling before, I'm falling now…_

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay, here's the super special second post for this week. As I'm sure you can see, it was WAY too long to include in Monday's. Lots of stuff happened. If I had it all in one update it would have been like 10 pages. Anyway, you'll see the aftermath of their steaminess next chapter.**

 **See you guys Monday! Please keep reviewing! Aitäh!**


	16. Week 15

**Jace's POV:**

January 9-

"I have to talk to you," Clary says forcefully when she walks into the bar, not even taking the time to say hello.

"Okay?" I brace myself for the worst. ' _Jace, we can't be together.' 'Jace, I don't like you anymore.' 'Jace, I've decided to run away with the guy I met at Pandemonium on Friday, because he's a better kisser.' Nah, that last one isn't it._ "Is it bad?"

"No, it's good actually," she says, relieving the pressure that was on my shoulders. "Unless you've decided since Friday that you don't like me anymore, in which case it's still not bad, just awkward."

I laugh and lean against the bar, watching her as she sits down. "I'm pretty sure that feeling isn't going to go away anytime soon." _Like ever. I'm falling in love with you._ "I'm all ears," I tell her, spreading my hands on the bar.

Clary nods her head assertively, and I wait for her to start talking, but she stays silent. Her green eyes are wide, but I can't tell what she's thinking and it's making me anxious. "I need alcohol first," she declares, and I chuckle a little before nodding and getting her Pabst. _Hopefully it isn't bad. She does seem awfully nervous though…_

I hand her her beer, and she takes several long gulps, almost downing half the beer before coming up for air. When she does, she takes several deep breaths before… Staying silent some more. I roll my eyes, smirking at her before placing my hand over hers on the bar.

She looks up at me in surprise. "I'll talk first," I offer, to which she exhales frustratedly before shaking her head.

"You always talk." _Does she think I talk too much? How is that possible, I am a very reserved man. Stoic as fuck… Except when it comes to Clary… Aw, fuck. I talk too much don't I?_ "I just mean that every time… _we_ have come up, you've done all the talking and I've just kinda, thrown myself at you," she trails off, blushing.

"I don't mind," I smirk, leaning in close to her face.

She rolls her eyes at me, scoffing ungracefully. "My point is, that maybe if I'd actually told you… ya know, how _I_ was feeling at the time, you wouldn't have left on Wednesday," she finishes quietly, looking down at our clasped hands with furrowed brows.

"Clary, that's not why I walked away," I confess, already feeling guilty about leaving her on that sidewalk. "I left because you said you were afraid of me."

"I never said I was afraid of you. I've never been afraid of you, just of being with you. Confusing as that sounds, there _is_ a difference," she clarifies.

"I know that now, but I thought you meant that you were scared of me, because of what Sebastian did, and I already thought it was too soon after you guys dated—"

"Oh please. Sebastian and I went on two dates, and then shit went down at my place and he hit me. Yeah it messed me up for a couple of days, but _you_ helped me straighten out. It's not too soon," she assures me. "And now, I thought _I_ was supposed to be doing the talking?"

She raises her eyebrows at me sassily, and I can't stop the smile that forms on my lips. _By the Angel she's amazing._ "Yeah, okay, but one quick thing," I beg. She just has time to sigh dramatically before my mouth is claiming hers in a quick kiss. _Too quick. Dammit I want a repeat of Friday. I want to continue where we left off before it started raining and we went our separate ways._ When I pull back I can see it in her eyes that her thoughts are in the same place. _Dark alley, wild kisses, exploring hands, fuck I want more._ I smirk again, watching as her face turns red. "You were going to say something?" I ask innocently, propping my head up on my hand.

Clary flips me off before looking down again, face still adorably flushed beneath her freckles. " _As annoying as you are_ , I still like you. And you say these amazing things, Jace, and I want to do the same, but I can't. I'm not good with words, that's why I'm an artist. I can't describe how I feel about you, but I can _show_ you. That's why I kissed you at the studio, and at the club, I just didn't know what to say… But, I've been thinking since Friday, and I know that that's not exactly fair to you, so… here goes nothing."

She rolls her shoulders back and finally raises her head, looking me straight in the eye when she continues. "I like you. Like, I really, _really_ like you. I've liked you since you let me call you Blondie that first Monday, and everything you've done since then has only made me like you more. I think about you, all the time, and I'm never as happy as I am when I'm with you. I've always loved wrestling, but recently I find myself more excited to see you when I come to the bar. The first person I want to tell things to is no longer Isabelle, or even Simon, but you. You're the one I can always count on to make me laugh and cheer me up, make me feel safe and somehow special. I know I haven't even known you for four months, but you're quickly becoming my favorite person. The fact that you were foolish enough to not see how much I liked you astounds me, but I didn't notice that you liked me either, so I guess we're both 'stupid and blind,' as Isabelle so kindly put it… I don't really know what else to say, because where we go from here depends on you as much as it does me, and—"

"Clary for fuck's sake will you shut the hell up?" I whisper with a smile, quoting back what she'd said to me on Friday. Although I don't say what words she had said after that, soon she's rising out of her seat and leaning over the bar to press her lips to mine. _Oh thank God I've missed this… It's been less than five minutes and I missed kissing her. What the hell?_ "Will you be my girlfriend?" I ask before I can stop myself, and her eyes grow exponentially.

"Aren't we supposed to go on a couple dates first?" she asks timidly, obviously shocked by my question.

I laugh and shake my head. "Clary, we have been going on dates every Monday night at eight since the beginning of October… But if an official date is what you require for me to be able to call you mine, I understand. How's Friday?"

Her brows scrunch together as she looks at me. " _This_ Friday?"

"Too presumptuous? Alright how about Saturday?" I ask, deliriously happy even though she didn't say yes to being my girlfriend. _She didn't say no, either. There's hope._

"No, I umm… Friday is fine?" she answers in a question, confusion etched onto her face.

I grin, giving her a chaste kiss before backing up. "I'll pick you up at six," I declare, already forming an idea in my head. _I just got a date with Red._

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

January 13-

When Jace rings the buzzer of my apartment to pick me up— at six o'clock on the dot— I start hyperventilating. Although he refused to tell me where we were going, he said I could wear whatever I wanted. _As if that's helpful_ , I think annoyed, as I tug nervously on my sweater sleeve.

He's standing in front of my building, looking golden and gorgeous as ever, and for a second I expect to wake up gasping. _I'm going on a date with him? Me? Okay, I mean I'll go with it._ "You look beautiful," he says, grinning at me.

"I'm wearing jeans," I counter, raising my eyebrows at him questioningly. _And my makeup is only mascara, and I did nothing with my unruly 'Shirley Temple-esque' hair…_

He scoffs, reaching to open the door to the cab for me before sliding in next to me. "It doesn't matter what you wear, Red."

I say nothing to this, looking out the window to hide my blush. _What if we're going to like, a fancy place? What if I end up hating this date? Ugh I should have gotten Izzy to find out what we were doing…_ I sigh, realizing too late that I must sound bored to Jace. I give him a smile which he returns before lacing his fingers with mine. I get lost in the lights of the city and the warmth of Jace's hand, and soon we're stopping in front of what looks like a small, gray apartment building. There's graffiti covering the side wall, but a large window leaving the front entrance open.

Sensing my confusion, Jace chuckles behind me and thanks the cabbie, nudging me gently to get out. I walk slowly to the building, which music is pouring out of, a smile stretching onto my face when I see artwork scattering the inside. _Low Brow Artique._ "You brought me to an art studio?" I ask, amazed.

He shrugs, smile tugging at his lips. "It's a graffiti shop by day, gallery by… well, also day. They close at eight," he explains, making me laugh. He grabs my hand again, following me inside, where alternative art covers every surface. A DJ is set up in the corner, his stand graffitied as well.

"Jace, this is seriously so cool. I've never even heard of a graffiti gallery before." I spin in a little circle, trying to take it all in, which Jace laughs at. "How did you find out about this place?"

"Google," he answers truthfully, but with amusement in his eyes as he watches me. "They have a gallery opening the second Friday of every month, and I thought it was perfect timing." I smile and raise myself onto my tiptoes, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "What was that for?"

"You're a pretty cool dude, Jace Wayland," I state, making him smile down at me.

"So that's the consensus then?" he asks tentatively.

I tip my head to the side, confused. "What do you mean?"

He runs a quick hand through his shaggy hair. "First date?" _Is he nervous? No, Jace doesn't get nervous. He's always cocky and confident._ I'm _the one who gets shy and awkward._

"Really great first date," I answer honestly, before turning and dragging him to an area that looks particularly interesting to me. He lets out a relieved breath, and I chuckle at his dramatics. "Were you really that worried? I mean it's not like you haven't done this before."

He gets this pained expression on his face, and his ears start turning faintly pink. _Oh my gosh! He_ is _nervous!_ "This is our first date," he starts, to which I nod. "But this is also my first date… ever."

My mouth drops open in shock, and I'm not able to stop the words, "You're _27_ ," from escaping.

Jace winces a little, and I feel bad for a second before he laughs. "Yeah, well. Girls never really interested me in the… _dating_ way before," he shrugs, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me closer.

 _He has never been on a date before? Like, ever? Even in high school, he just slept with girls? I guess he wasn't kidding when he told me I was different…_ I smile and breathe deeply, content to stand in Jace's arms for eternity. _I'm falling in love with you, Jace. But you don't need to know that. Not yet._ He looks down at me, eyebrows raised in question. Instead of answering, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, taking him by surprise.

He kisses me back, nothing overly heated since we're in the middle of an art gallery, but it's nice and warm and comfortable, and I can feel his heart beating frantically next to mine, and it's pretty damn incredible. When he pulls away we're both breathless, and he whispers quietly, "Will you be my girlfriend, Red?"

No need for hesitation this time, I grin. "Yes, Blondie."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay, so they are now official, even though it took Clary one amazing date to convince her. By the way, Low Brow Artique is a real place. I really do wish I lived closer to New York so I could go to the places I'm writing about, but hey that's life for you.**

 **Please PLEASE let me know if you guys want me to write about sexy times! I'm open to it (even though this will be my first time writing that kind of thing), I just need to know if that is something you guys would want to read. So review and let me know, yes or no to sexy times!**

 **Salamat!**


	17. Week 16

**Jace's POV:**

January 16-

When Clary comes into the bar, I instantly start smiling. _Here she comes. This girl is my girlfriend. This girl that could have anyone in the world is my girlfriend._ My _girlfriend. My amazing, beautiful, smart, funny girlfriend. My slightly angry looking girlfriend… Uh oh._ I walk up just as she's plopping down in her seat. "What's wrong, Red?"

She huffs loudly, blowing a red curl out of her face. "I tore a hole in my giraffe onesie," she mumbles, not looking at me.

"You what?" I ask, although I probably heard right.

"I tore a hole, in my giraffe onesie," she repeats louder, enunciating the words. "It's tragic."

"Obviously," I smirk. _Only Clary would have a onesie at age 23._

She continues as if she didn't hear me, hands moving expressively. "Giraffes are my favorite land animal, and now I have no proper way to represent them while keeping warm and comfortable."

She's pouting, a harsh line between her brows. "I'm sorry, Clary," I comfort her, unable to keep the smile off my face. "Wait, did you say 'favorite _land_ animal'?"

Clary nods animatedly, sitting straight now. "Yeah. Giraffe's are my favorite land animal, manatees are my favorite sea animal, and ostriches are my favorite 'air' animal, even though they technically can't fly, they have wings so they _count_ ," she finishes, looking at me like she's daring me to disagree. _Who is that specific about something as specific as their favorite animal? Oh yeah, Clary._

"Why those animals?" I question, content to watch her talk about this for forever.

"Giraffes are awesome! They're so fucking tall, and they have all of the spots and these awkward little antler knobs, and their tongues are _super_ long like they're literally 18 to 20 inches long what the hell! Oh, and when they fight, they whack each other with their necks! How hilariously badass is that!?"

I'm laughing at her reasoning, nodding my head when she looks to me for agreement. "And manatees? What about them, why are they great?" _Keep talking, I swear I'll listen._

"Okay, well first of all, have you _seen_ manatees? They're fucking adorable. And they just swim around all day eating lettuce and shit because they're herbivores, and pirates used to think they were mermaids— which is a far stretch if you ask me, but whatever— and they're just the epitome of blubbery cuteness."

"Fair enough. Manatees are indeed cute, and giraffes aren't bad either. So what's the deal with ostriches?" I just know she's going to go off on another one of her tangents, and I can't wait. _By the Angel she's perfect._

"Ostriches _are_ cute! Not as obviously as the others, but they are. And they have three stomachs which I'm jealous about, and they can run so fast like 45 mph kind of fast, and sometimes they bury their head in the sand! …Which I really wish I could do, especially when you're looking at me at like that. Why are you looking at me like that?" she questions, brows furrowed as she watches me nervously.

I scrunch my brows in confusion. _Was I looking at her weird? I didn't mean to, I was just listening to her talk about her favorite animals and thinking that I love her and how she— Holy shit. I just thought that I loved her._ Do _I love her? Oh fuck._ "I don't know what you're talking about," I answer, breaking eye contact immediately. "You want the usual?"

I walk away without waiting for her reply, mind lost in my own thoughts. _Nope. I can not love her already. I have never loved_ anyone _before, not even close. We have been on one date, I am not ready for this. So not ready for this. Ignore it, Jace. Push down your feelings, just pay no attention to them and they'll go away. Yeah. That'll work._ I walk back to Clary timidly, afraid she took my rebuffel as insulting, but when I return she looks just as cheerfully content as always.

"Thanks," she says with a smile as I place her items in front of her. "By the way, I'm kidnapping you on Saturday."

I chuckle at her wording. "How do you mean?" _Either way I'm okay with it._

"I am taking you out on a date," she states.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

She rolls her eyes ungracefully. "Psh. This is the 21st century. And it's gonna be cool, so say yes." _I don't think there's anything I would deny you if you asked._

"What are we doing?" I ask, intrigued.

She shakes her head at me, sweet smile on her lightly freckled face. "I'm not telling you."

"But what should I wear?" I question sarcastically, head between my hands in a dramatic expression.

Her smile turns evil as she looks at me. "Glad you asked." _Oh no._ "It's 80's themed, so dress funky!" When I raise an eyebrow at her she continues, "Or jeans and a t-shirt. That works too."

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

January 21-

When I leave my apartment at 10:30pm, I'm not sure what to expect. But it's definitely not this: Clary, with her short curled hair brushed to the side with a bright headband, silver leggings, and a cut off Aerosmith t-shirt under her jean jacket. _How does she always look perfect? Who the hell owns silver leggings?_ I shift awkwardly in my jeans and Guns n Roses t-shirt, feeling somehow underdressed.

"Hey," she grins, grabbing me by the hand and ushering me into the waiting cab. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" I ask, pulling her close in the backseat.

She smiles coyly. "You'll find out. Prepare to be amazed," she warns, giving me a kiss on the cheek before looking excitedly out the window. I chuckle at her enthusiasm, letting myself relax in her presence. Before long we're pulling up at a narrow building smushed between a CVS and a vintage clothing store.

"Tada!" she exclaims, pointing at the building. Before I can ask where we are, she's walking to the small window, where she shows the man her two tickets. He nods her along, eyes lingering on her exposed midriff before he catches me glaring at him.

Clary grabs my hand again, tugging me through the doors until we're in a lit area. _She's taking me to a concert? Fuck, I love this girl. Wait, no I don't. I can't, so I'll like her. I'll be falling in love with her._

She looks at my wide gaze and giggles, standing close to me in the brightly dressed crowd. "This is Le Poisson Rouge. They have concerts here, and there's a gallery through that archway," she informs me, pointing to a better lit area. "The band playing tonight is called Jessie's Girl, and they sing covers of 80's songs. I've never had the chance to come here before but always wanted to, and the 80's was an _amazing_ time for music so it shouldn't suck."

I laugh at her reasoning and pull her to me, kissing her swiftly on the mouth. "It's great."

"You like it?" When I nod my head she continues, "I promise our next date won't have anything to do with art."

"I don't dislike art, Red," I assure her.

She smiles at me, grabbing my hand again as she weaves through the loose crowd. "I know, but I also know that it can be kinda boring for people who aren't artists, or art enthusiasts." _I always look at you anyways._ I don't realize I said that out loud until I see her smile change into a softer one. "I just don't want to bore you to death."

"You could never bore me, Clary. Besides, does this really seem boring to you?" I ask incredulously, gesturing around the room.

She laughs, leaning closer to me. "Nah, it seems pretty fucking awesome. Best of both worlds, right?"

"Right," I agree, kissing her on the forehead. The concert starts promptly at 11 o'clock, and Clary bounces on her feet a little. The adrenaline rushes in my veins, too, as they open with _Jessie's Girl_. She's singing along, but the volume of the band blocks her voice from my ears. When the next song, _Time of My Life_ , comes on, I grin at her dramatic performance. _I love that she's this comfortable around me. Wish I could say the same, but it takes some alcohol to make me sing in public._ "You want a drink?" I ask, close to her ear so she can hear me. She nods and I lead her through the crowd, towards the bar.

We get two seats relatively easy, considering most of the people are surrounding the stage. When our drinks arrive we sip them quietly, no words necessary as we watch the band.

"Are you having fun?" she asks me, looking nervous for some unexplained reason.

"Of course I am," I answer. "This is great. Why do you ask?"

She bites her lower lip, a habit I'm finding more and more distracting. "I dunno. It just seems like you're not as into this whole thing as I am," she replies with a shrug.

I laugh a little in understanding. "We can't all be as fun and easygoing as you, Red."

Her mouth drops open in mock outrage. "I am not fun! You take that back right now." When I shake my head no, she continues, "The days I don't work, I stay at home, painting or reading. Every once in awhile I might be convinced to visit a friend at work, but that's literally all I do. I am a homebody, to the extreme."

"Same here," I confess, chuckling. "I go to work and I come home. My old friends—or what's left of them, after Sebastian—all want to do things like go to clubs and get blackout drunk… So you, my darling girlfriend, are pretty much the only thing I do for fun anymore." _Did I just say I do her for fun?_ Clary starts laughing at my wording, and I shake my head in embarrassment.

"So no regrets yet, about being my boyfriend?" she inquires with raised eyebrows.

I smile at her and shake my head. "Not one. Although, I do have to ask, since I'm new to this whole 'boyfriend' thing. How, exactly, is this different from what we were for the past four months?"

She looks down and grins, twisting a red curl around her finger. "Well, for starters, we talk more."

"I'm okay with that."

"And, we also see each other more frequently," she adds, now looking at me.

"I'm definitely okay with that."

"And you _might_ , every once in awhile, have to kiss me," she warns, face scrunched in an expression of unpleasantness.

I slam my empty glass onto the table, shaking my head. "Now, that is just out of the question!" I joke. She giggles, a divine sound erupting from her mouth, and I can't kiss her fast enough. She kisses me back, smiling against my mouth, my heart beating abnormally fast against my ribcage.

 _Okay, Jace. Face it. Clary is perfect for you, and basically perfect in general. If you_ don't _love her, you're an idiot. You just need to decide when to tell her… If you should tell her._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay, giraffes and manatees and ostriches are actually my favorite animals BECAUSE ALL THOSE FACTS ARE TRUE, and I actually have a giraffe onesie. Don't judge, haters, you WISH you could be as comfy as me.**

 **Do you think Jace will tell Clary he loves her? Do you think she feels the same way? (Le) Poisson Rouge is also a real place, and they do have 80's themed concerts, as well as others. Again, I seriously wish I lived in New York.**

 **I got a lot of responses as far as Clace sexiness, and I didn't get any no's, so sexy times it is! This is my first fanfic, so writing smut or whatever you wanna call it will be interesting. I'll do my best.**

 **I'll see you peeps Monday. Please keep the reviews coming, kiitos!**


	18. Week 17

**Jace's POV:**

January 23-

The moment that Clary walked into the bar, I thought I should have told her that I love her right away, right then and there. But now that I'm cleaning up after the last customer has just left, I feel like this is actually a better time. _We're alone. So do it now. She should know that you love her, and it's not like Clary will laugh in your face; she's sweet. So incredibly nice. And funny. And smart, too. And ugh by the Angel, just tell her already!_ I take a steadying breath and shakily make my way to Red, who's sitting patiently at her usual seat.

She must have heard me approaching from behind, because she quickly swivels her chair so that the back is resting against the bar. "Hey you," she smiles, ushering me closer.

I return the smile with ease. "Hey," I say, wincing as my voice cracks. _Smooth. By the Angel, I can't believe you were_ ever _a ladies man._ Clary giggles in response, her easy laughter relaxing me, if only a little.

She realizes that I'm staring at her about the same time I do, and chews her lip, blushing but not breaking eye contact. "Come here," she orders softly, and my heart rate instantly picks up again. I do as I'm told and close the short distance between us until I'm standing between her legs, looking down at her. She runs her hands up my arms slowly, and though I'm wearing a longsleeved shirt, I feel it as if her fingers are trailing on my bare skin, leaving warm tremors in their wake. When she gets to my shoulders she stops, looking up at me through her copper lashes. "I'm gonna kiss you now."

I smirk and bend to connect our lips, but once they touch she takes control of the kiss. Clasping her hands behind my neck, she moves her lips persistently, pressing her smaller body against mine. ' _Fuck'_ is the last coherent thought I have before her tongue invades my mouth, and she tastes like honey BBQ and Pabst, and my arms instinctively go around her. I feel her heart beating, fast just like mine, and smile.

We kiss for a long while, completely caught up in each other and the newness of just being with each other. Things have been moving relatively slow for us physically, but I can't say that I blame her at all for wanting to take things slow, especially after how we started dating— a makeout session in an alley.

She winds her fingers into my hair, pulling me impossibly closer, and I feel my breath go out of me. _I can't let this get out of hand. Not again, not here._ "You should go," I tell her as I pull away, kicking myself for even suggesting such a thing. _Why would you say that. Space between you guys is the last thing you want!_

"Yeah," she breathes, not completely hiding her disappointment. "I should do that." Before I can respond she's pulling me to her again, gripping the material of my shirt as she kisses me. I groan softly, grabbing her by the waist. _By the Angel she's amazing. It hurts to think about that short span of time that felt eternal, when I knew her and had her in my life, but I couldn't do this._ She separates before we can get carried away, making me frown internally. "Bye," she whispers against my lips, making me smile and kiss her again, chastely. She hops off her stool and dons her coat while walking to the door.

"Bye. I lo—" I break off with scared eyes, hoping she didn't hear me.

Her red head tilts to the side, hand frozen on the handle, and my hopes are dashed. "What?"

"See you later. _I'll_ see you later," I clarify, shooting her some finger guns. _Right. Because not only are you a wuss who can't tell the girl you love that you love her, but you also do_ finger guns _now. Cool._

She chuckles, shaking her shoulder length curls out and likely wondering why she's even dating me. "See you around, Blondie."

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

January 25-

" _Hey. What are you doing right now?_ " Jace asks as soon as I answer the phone.

"Umm…" I hesitate as I look down at my almost complete drawing of him. "Nothing. Chilling." I wince. _By the Angel, I'm such a dork. What does a guy like Jace even see in me?_

He laughs softly on the other end. " _Well, do you think you could 'chill' somewhere else?_ "

"I suppose so," I answer with a smile, closing my sketchbook. "What did you have in mind?"

" _You'll see. Come downstairs._ "

I jump up in surprise, looking out my living room window to see Jace's golden face smirking up at me. I shake my head at him and run to grab my scarf and boots before I'm quickly bounding down the steps to my boyfriend. "Fancy meeting you here," I joke, giving him a kiss.

"Hey. You ready?" he asks, looking at me excitedly.

"For what?" I smile with him, unable to resist copying his expression.

He shrugs secretively. "You'll see. If it's alright with you, I thought we'd walk since it's not too far?" I nod in response and he grabs my gloved hand in his, leading me down the sidewalk. We walk in comfortable silence for a while, until he asks, "So what were you _actually_ doing when I called you?" _Crap. This is a little awkward._

"Drawing," I answer nonchalantly, hoping he'll just accept it.

"Drawing what?" _No dice._

I chew on my lip and look down to hide my blush, considering lying and saying I was working on my new Fairchild piece. "You."

He looks shocked but not creeped out, and I relax immediately. _I should've known better than to think he'd judge me. He's seen my sketches of random New Yorkers around my room._ "Really? Can I see it?"

"Maybe when I'm done," I compromise, to which he nods his head understandingly. "So how'd you get off work? You playing hookie or something?"

He laughs at my terminology, although I now know that he has the ability to close the bar whenever he sees fit. "Something like that. I heard some sightseers talking about this place, and I have actually never heard of it. It won't be too crowded either, since it's really quite new. It's actually still in progress, but should be great nonetheless."

I open my mouth to ask what 'this place' is, when he stops in front of a very large red building with 'Lowline Labs' painted on the side. "Okay, I'll bite. Why are we at a lab?" He chuckles and tugs me toward the doors, walking inside to a set of stairs. If he hadn't said that he'd never heard of it, I would have thought he'd been here multiple times with how effortlessly he finds his way.

I'm still confused about where he's taking me, especially with the bright light coming from the bottom of the stairs. But when my feet hit the last step, my mouth drops in awe. In front of me, in the basement of some lab in the middle of New York, is a rainforest. All I can see is green, with splashes of color where flowers pop up. Artificial sunlight, staggeringly bright, pours down from the translucent honeycombed ceiling. "Jace, this is…" I trail off in wonder.

"No words?" I nod in response and walk forward tentatively, trying and failing to take it all in. When I look back to see if Jace is following, I find him staring at me. _Why on God's green Earth is he looking at_ me _and not this place?_

"Jace?" I say his name gently, shocked by the look in his eyes. My voice seems to break him from his trance, and before I can say anything else he's closing the distance. His hands hold my face gently, as if afraid I'll break, but his mouth crashes down onto mine with an intensity I did not expect. He is putting everything into the kiss, and I reciprocate in full, wrapping my hands around his wrists lightly. When we finally manage to pull away we're both breathless, and he leans his forehead on mine, eyes closed. "You were looking at me like that again," I whisper. _What is that look? It's a nice, sweet look, like I always dreamed someone would look at me._ _I love it, but I've never seen it before._

"I love you." He says it so quietly, I'm not sure I heard him right.

My eyes grow wide as my heart plummets in my stomach. "What?" _I heard him wrong, right?_

Jace's amber eyes open slowly, and sure enough, there's the look he had before, aimed directly at me. "I love you," he repeats. _Jace can't love me. He can_ not _love me. Not yet. Not him. Not_ me _._ "I understand that this seems fast. Like _really_ fucking fast. And if I didn't feel it myself, I would think that I was crazy, too. I mean we've been on three dates now. An official couple for just over two weeks. But… well I've known you for four months, Clary."

I wrack my brain for something to say, anything at all, but all I can think is _Panic! Panic panic panic_ panic _!_ "It's just… I don't know. I never… I've never been in love before," I stutter, sirens still wailing inside my brain.

He huffs out a laugh, finally releasing his hold on my face. "Neither have I. But I'm willing to bet almost anything that what I feel for you is stronger than what most people call love."

I feel his gaze on me as I silently contemplate what to say. _Surely I have to say_ something _. I mean the poor guy just told me he loved me… Oh no. What if he is so hurt by my rejection that he breaks up with me? I can't let that happen, I can't._ "Jace—" I start, breathless from panic.

"It's okay if you don't love me back, Clary," he assures me with a soft smile. But there is unmistakable sadness in his tawny eyes, and my heart shatters with the knowledge that I caused it. "I'm content to love you as long as you like me. Just promise I'll be the first one you tell, when you feel differently." My shoulders sag as he leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead, then walks a couple paces away to look at an arrangement of greenery.

 _Feel differently like don't like you anymore, or feel differently like love you too? Dammit Clary that's not the point… What if I just ruined things? I mean he's handling it well, but still… Do I love him? No, I can't. If I loved him, I wouldn't have to ask myself. I would_ know _. And I can't tell him I love him just so things aren't weird between us. You can't say something that serious and not mean it with every fiber of your being, or you're just an actual fucking horrible person._

I take a deep breath and release it, flexing my fingers and toes before joining him. I wrap my hands around him from behind, resting my head between his shoulder blades. "I promise."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **There is some EXTREMELY subtle foreshadowing in this update, and I can't wait for your reactions when you find out. If you guess it right, I'll send you a little portion from next week. So Jace told Clary he loved her, and bummer she doesn't feel the same. Never fear, Jace was super understanding and you know I ship Clace harder than most.**

 **(Lowline Park is a real place too, and I wanna go SO FUCKING BAD! It's only open on weekends though, so I fibbed about Clace going on a Wednesday, but oh well.) I didn't realize until after I wrote this chapter that Jace told Clary he loved her in a greenhouse type place. So,** **coinkydink.**

 **Merci!**


	19. Week 18

**Clary's POV:**

January 30-

"Have a good night Pangborn," Jace says as he locks up the bar behind the last straggler. The meet went by quickly tonight, and next thing I know he and I are alone after hours. He gives me wink before walking behind the bar, starting his clean up routine.

I glance at the clock and watch him work, not bothering to hide the frown. "Are you sure you can't leave?" I ask for the billionth time tonight, kicking myself for sounding so whiny.

"Sorry Red. I really should balance the books before the end of the month, and that's _after_ I clean up the front." He gives me a sad look and leans across the bar to kiss my cheek, but I turn my head at the last minute so he comes into contact with my lips instead. _So sue me, I thoroughly enjoy kissing my boyfriend. My hot boyfriend. My hot boyfriend who said that he loves me._

He groans against my mouth and pulls away, looking frustrated as he gets a clean rag from under the bar. I hop down from my chair and walk behind the bar, an idea forming in my head. "I could help? I mean with the cleaning part," I clarify.

He spins around, surprised to see me behind the bar. "You shouldn't be back here, Clary," he chastises. "There are spills on the ground, and with your naturally clumsy footing, you're sure to trip and crack your skull open."

I roll my eyes and walk towards him, giving him a kiss on the cheek while I steal the rag out of his hand. "Don't be silly, Blondie. I know you'd catch me anyway," I joke, spraying down the bar before wiping it. His arms are soon wrapped around me from behind, and I laugh in surprise as he spins me to face him so my back is pressed against the bar. Before I can ask what he's doing, his lips are on mine, moving diligently. I kiss him back, one arm wrapping around his neck while the other hand grips his arm.

We kiss deeply, the kind of kiss that leaves me tingly and a little lightheaded, and I can't help the soft moan that sounds from my chest. He smiles against my mouth, his lips trailing over my cheek and down my neck. I can see my eyes reflected over Jace's shoulder, wide and dark. He nips at the sensitive skin at my collarbone and I gasp, unable to stop the sound before it escapes. He grins against my skin, and I watch my fingers in the mirror as they wind into his hair, tugging. I'm lost in the light feeling that only Jace causes, when a flash of movement out the front door of the bar catches my eye in the mirror. I can't be sure from this distance, but I could almost swear the lock on the door is moving.

"Jace…" I whisper, trying to get his attention. He must have mistaken it for me sighing his name, because he chuckles softly against my neck. When he straightens up with a smirk in place, I'm still staring at the door in the mirror, watching as the handle starts to jiggle. _Someone is about to walk in on us making out. Please don't be his dad…_ "Jace," I say more urgently, pulling myself away from him and smoothing out my hair.

I whirl around in time to see a guy coming in, holding a bag. He looks as surprised to see us as we are to see him, and with unsteady hands he pulls a gun from his bag. Jace shoves me behind him with his left arm, raising his right to show he won't do anything. "Hey… Look, y-you can take whatever it is you want. You don't have to use the gun, man."

The burglar doesn't seem to hear him. He raises the gun, pointing it at us. "There wasn't supposed to be anybody here."

Jace nods his head slowly, reassuringly. "It's okay. Have the money, we'll leave."

"No one was supposed to be here," the burglar repeats. His hands are shaking so much I think he's gonna pass out, but the gun is still pointed at Jace's chest.

I move to Jace's left side, his arm still keeping me behind his body. "We won't tell anybody about this, honest. It's okay."

The burglar shakes his head furiously, his whole body shaking now. "It's not. It's _not_. I can't—" The gun goes off, aimed towards Jace.

I act without thinking, shoving him to the right. Agony like I've never felt rips through me as the bullet hits me just under my right ribcage. I fall hard, a scream escaping my mouth. " _Red!_ " Jace looks over at me, completely forgetting for a moment that there's a gun trained on him.

I hear the burglar scream, "I'm sorry!" though I can't see anything but Jace and the liquor behind the bar.

Jace's face twists in rage, pointing his finger at the burglar like a weapon more menacing than any gun. " _You shot her!_ "

"I-I'm sorry!" the burglar stutters. "I didn't mean to!" The chime above the door sounds, announcing that he's left in a hurry.

Jace falls to his knees next to me, eyes wide and watery as blood drains from the wound in my abdomen. "Clary! Please, be okay, _be okay_! I don't know what—"

"Nine—" I cut off, coughing up blood and wincing.

"What?" he whispers. His golden face so distorted with fear, the only thing I can focus on besides the searing pain.

"911. Call 911," I instruct.

Jace scrambles for his cell, dialing 911 on speaker phone and cursing when the operator talks too slow. " _I need someone here NOW!_ She's bleeding, so much," he sobs, falling silent when he realizes I'm trying to speak again.

"Pressure. To the wound. Get cloth." The words escape my mouth, though I'm not sure how. I feel my eyes get heavy, and though I know I should fight it, I don't want to. The pain is too much, and I just want it to stop. Even if it means leaving Blondie.

Jace strips off his flannel shirt and presses it into the gunshot, his tears falling onto my chest as I cry out in misery. He leans down to me, kissing along my face. My cheeks, my nose, my forehead, and finally my lips, which I try to move against his to no avail. "Don't leave me," he begs. "I love you, Clary. Please stay with me. How could you do that? Why would you push me out of the way, when you know I can't live without you? How _could_ you, Red?"

I try to laugh but it comes out sounding like a moan. I'm not able to form words at first, as my own tears slip from closed eyes. Even my thoughts are blurry, and just before the darkness envelops me, I manage to whisper why it was I had decided to die for him. "Because… I love you, too."

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

January 31-

 _I'm laying next to Clary in my bed, her fire-red hair sprawled out around her head, wide green eyes open and loving. I look down at her adoringly, kissing both of her cheeks and her forehead before moving to her lips. They don't move against mine, so I pull back to ask her what's wrong. When I prop myself on my elbows above her, I look into her eyes, the light fading out as they stare unseeingly up at me. I cry out, staring in horror as blood surrounds her, blending into her scarlet hair._

I wake up with a scream, finding myself in the chair next to Clary's hospital bed, grateful that she got a single room because of her work connections. I get up quickly, kissing Clary lightly on the cheek before leaving to get a coffee from the cafeteria. Grimacing as I drink the dark sludge that was poured out of the machine, I let my feet drag me back to the room, taking a deep breath before entering again. I stare at the monitor for what must have been hours, hanging onto each beep like it's _my_ lifeline. When my butt gets numb from sitting in the uncomfortable seat for too long, I shift so my forehead is pillowed on my arms, resting on the edge of the bed. Unconsciousness comes quickly, my sleep-deprived body betraying my oath to watch over her.

 _Clary is standing in a field, facing away from me. A soft lilac dress twists around her body in the breeze, bright hair flowing above her shoulders. "Clary," I say, reaching out to make sure that she's real. My hand drifts over her shoulder, down her arm, and grabs her own hand._

 _She turns to me, green eyes bright with excitement. "Jace." She closes the distance and wraps her arms around me._

 _I breathe her in, the familiar scent of strawberries and lavender wafting around me. My arms pull her close, and I grin into her hair when I feel her heart beating strong against my chest. "I love you, Clary."_

 _She smiles, lips moving on my skin, gripping me tighter to her. "I love you, too, Jace… Jace… Jace… Blondie…"_ _Her hands tangle in my hair, fingers winding around my golden strands. I place a soft kiss to her neck, her hand gripping my hair and_ pulling—

I wake up with a start, happy that I had my first dream about Clary since the incident that _didn't_ involve blood. I shut my eyes, not moving from my spot next to Clary. I'm about to drift to sleep again when a hand shifts in my hair. I sit up suddenly, staring with wide eyes at Clary, _my Clary_ , laying in bed looking up at me. _Looking up at me._ " _Clary_ ," I whisper, afraid to talk too loud and ruin the sacred moment.

She smiles softly at me, hand falling to her side now that my hair is out of reach. "Hey Blondie."

My body moves without my permission, bending down to her. I stare at her, taking in her vibrant red hair, her bright green eyes I haven't seen in much too long, the freckles splattered across her cheeks and nose. My hand reaches out slowly, fingertips lightly trailing along the side of her face. When she turns her face into the palm of my hand I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, head dropping down beside hers. I breathe deeply, trying to control my emotions, feeling relaxed for the first time in what feels like forever.

"Red…" I can't think of anything else to say, my throat closing up. I turn my head to face hers, still nuzzling into my hand. I feel wetness touch my palm, and my thumb strokes her cheek to clear it of tears, turning her softly to face me. _She's not supposed to be crying._ She _didn't have to watch the love of_ her _life fade into unconsciousness, blood pooling around the wound that wouldn't be there if it weren't for you._

"How long have I been out?" she asks quietly, not looking away from me.

"Just under twenty hours," I answer. "They took you into surgery once the ambulance got here, and released you from post op late this morning. I'm not sure how long you'll be staying here, but they're optimistic. Who knows, Red, you might even be eating wings and watching wrestling on Monday."

She smiles at me, chuckling softly and breaking off with a wince. "I sure hope so."

"You're in pain. What can I do, Clary? Should I get a nurse?" I mentally slap myself, realizing how panicked I sound. I can't help it though. I almost _lost_ her.

She sighs, rolling her eyes. "I guess. If you must."

I grin at her sass and her strength, standing up to press the call button on the wall. I clasp her hand in mine, and not much later a nurse scurries in.

"Hey Clary. How are you feeling?" the nurse asks, recording information from Clary's monitor and adjusting some tubes that are attached to her wrists.

"Alright, Cat. Just a little out of it, and kinda nauseous…" she trails off, trying to shrug and then obviously thinking better of it when she grips my hand tighter.

The nurse, who the board names Catarina, laughs softly, helping Clary lift herself a little before shifting her pillows. "Yeah. Well you know that's normal. I'm so glad you're okay, though. You had us all so worried!"

"Yeah, we didn't really see it coming either," Clary says quietly, looking over at me.

I squeeze her hand, mind flashing back to last night. Clary's laugh, as I spun her around. Her quiet sighs and moans as I kissed her, my mouth trailing down her neck. Her gasp when the burglar came in. Her hands gripping my shirt tight with fear, and then moving me out of the way when the burglar shot. Her scream when the bullet hit her instead of me. Her skin growing paler as blood seeped through the thick material of my shirt. Her mouth shaping the words I've always wanted to hear—"I love you"—and then shutting as she stopped breathing altogether.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **So, that foreshadowing I was talking about was the finger guns. I'm a horrible person, I know. But she's okay!**

 **Disclaimer: I did a lot of research on gunshot wounds to the abdomen to find out how long you're in recovery and stuff, but there's surprisingly little on the internet. So if you have any complaints with her progress in the coming chapters, shoot an enemy in the stomach and record data.**

 **Disclaimer 2: Don't actually shoot anyone. I do not condone, nor support this action.**

 **Review! Mahalo!**


	20. Week 19

**Jace's POV:**

February 6-

I walk into the hospital, two cans of root beer and a to go box of Wayland's honey BBQ wings tucked firmly under my arm. I try to stay in the hospital with Clary every night, but after endless arguing, I almost always concede— however begrudgingly. I still visit every day though. She thinks it's because I'm a 'caring guy' and while I suppose she's right in a way, I really just need to make sure that she is actually alright. I haven't told her about the nightmares that come every night. The ones that always end with her dying in my arms, and me waking up scared out of my wits and gasping for breath. I thought they would go away after she woke up after surgery, when I got to see her iridescent green eyes again. But I still can't shake them, even if I talk to her on the phone right before I go to sleep.

When I get to her room, I see Clary sitting in bed, knees bent under her as she sketches. At least a dozen pencils and even more colored pencils surround her. Her brows are furrowed in concentration and she's chewing furiously on her top lip, hands scurrying across the page deftly. I watch her for a minute in silence, just thanking the Angel that she's okay, before making my presence known. The TV is turned to BTN, making me grin.

"Hey," she says, clearly surprised at seeing me here so early. "Aren't you supposed to be at the bar?"

"Eh. Will's got it covered," I shrug, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I had somewhere I needed to be." She grins at me and quickly collects her art supplies to make room for me on the bed beside her. I give her a kiss and place the bottles and wings between us. "Your usual, my dear."

"You brought me wings and… root beer?" she questions, scrunching her nose in a truly adorable way.

"The doctor said to stay away from alcohol until you're fully recovered, Red," I scold her, twisting off the top and handing it to her. _And I'll be damned if I don't do_ everything _to make sure that you're okay. From now until forever._

Clary rolls her eyes but accepts the drink. "Yeah yeah… You're pretty great, you know that?" She rolls her propped up head to face me, a sweet smile on her face. _Jeez. She makes me basically feel like the luckiest guy in the world just for being on the receiving end of her smiles._

"I know," I say, grinning.

"Cocky bastard…" she glares at me playfully before her smile slips through. "Gimme a wing."

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

February 8-

 _I'm free! By the Angel, I thought it was bad being stuck in the hospital for a 12 hour shift, but being cooped up for over a week was the worst experience of my life._ I release a content sigh when I unlock the door to my apartment, immediately plopping down on the couch and hugging all the soft decorative pillows. A deep chuckle pulls me from my comfy bubble of bliss, and I glare at him over the fringe on the pillow against my chest.

"Don't judge me. I was locked in that room for nine days. _Nine days_ , Jace! I felt like I was going to die in there!" I complain, getting up to make my way to the kitchen. I see the flinch he tries to cover when I say that, and mentally slap myself. I know he's still pretty shaken up about the whole thing; more than I am, probably.

I tie my last inflated 'Get Well Soon' balloon onto the dishtowel hook, just for giggles, and when I turn around Jace immediately envelops me. He hugs me desperately, one hand around my waist while the other gets lost in my short curls, holding me to his chest. I can feel that he's tense as a bowstring, but when my arms go around his waist he relaxes noticeably. "Words can't describe how grateful I am that you're okay. I don't know what I would've done with myself if you'd… if you hadn't been okay." _Oh, my sweet Jace…_

I grip him tighter, finding comfort in his heart beating underneath my cheek. "I love you," I whisper, a tiny smile forming on my lips. He sucks in a short breath but stays silent, and I look up at him in question, resting my chin on his chest. The look on his face is one of pure astonishment, and I feel my stomach churn in nervousness. "What?" _Was it too sudden? Should I have given some kind of speech beforehand? He knows I'm not like that._

"I… I didn't think you remembered," he says quietly. When I furrow my brows in confusion, he continues. "I didn't think you remembered what you said before you passed out."

I pull away, resting my back against the counter. "I don't. I actually don't remember much of anything after getting shot," I confess, trying to concentrate. _What did I say before I passed out? Was it embarrassing?_

Jace's face twists into one of pain, but before I can ask what's wrong he speaks. "You told me what to do. I should've known, cause it was common sense stuff, but I was completely out of it, terrorized with fear. You told me to call 911, and put pressure on the wound…" I raise my eyebrows when he trails off, knowing there's more. "And when I asked why you pushed me out of the way like that, y-you said it was because you loved me, too."

 _I already told him I love him, and I can't remember it. And it was super cheesy, too. Great._ "I don't remember any of that." He gives me a sad smile, the look inside his eyes breaking my heart little by little. "But that doesn't change the fact that I love you. I've known for a while, I think. Definitely before that night. I think it was just the situation most people are fortunate enough _not_ to encounter— the ability to risk my life to save yours— that made me know without a shred of doubt that I was _in_ love with you. And I would do it again," I add with a shrug, looking at him with watery eyes.

Jace stares back at me, tawny eyes wide. "I love you," he states, breathtaking smile transforming his face.

I barely have time to squeak out "I love you, too," before his mouth is on mine, persistent and soft.

"I lov— mph." I cut him off, pulling him to me and moving my lips harder. He lifts me to sit on the counter and moves between my legs, making me slightly taller than him for the first time ever. We use this new position to deepen the kiss, his hands squeezing my waist tightly as I grab fistfulls of his hair. When I wrap my legs around his waist he groans softly against my lips, hands going under my butt to support my weight as he carries me down the short hallway to my room.

He places me down on the bed softly before crawling on top of me, now kissing down my neck, to my shoulder and collarbones. I breathe Jace's name when he sucks at the point connecting my neck to my shoulder, and his hips press down onto mine on instinct. A gasp escapes my lips and I finger the hem of his shirt, tugging it lightly up his chest until he realizes what I want and rips his shirt over his head, returning with a bruising kiss. His hands work along my back underneath my sweater, and I reach down to pull it over my head as well.

I'm wearing a plain blue cotton bra, nothing exciting by far, but you wouldn't guess it by the way Jace looks down at my chest with dark eyes. His lips return to mine, mouthing the words 'I love you' against them as his hands move to the front of my chest— And he pulls away with a gasp, springing out of bed and off of me.

"Jace?" I question, propping myself on my elbows. He looks like he's about to be sick, not saying anything as he stares at my chest. "Jace, what's— Where did that blood come from?" I ask hurriedly, getting out of bed and walking to him. He backs away from me, bumping into the wall, holding his bloodied hand out as if to ward me off. I follow his gaze to my chest and see a large smear of red along my abdomen, spread from my stitches in the form of Jace's hand. "Oh, hell," I curse, rushing to the bathroom to wash it off before the blood gets on anything. _Way to ruin the mood. Freaking stitches._

When I'm done I place a loose bandage over it, and return to my room with a damp rag to clean Jace's hand. He's standing exactly where he was when I left the room, staring at his red hand in horror. When I grab it softly he starts, and I wince at the devastated look in his eyes. "Jace—"

"I'm sorry," he interrupts, shaking his head. He looks broken, and I want to comfort him so badly, but I need to find out what he's sorry for. "I never— I didn't mean to hurt you. I am so sorry. I—"

"Jace," I stop him forcefully, finished scrubbing his hand. "You didn't hurt me. I ripped one of my stitches, that's all." He doesn't reply, just stares unseeingly at my rumpled sheets. "Blondie, look at me." His golden eyes, still heartbreakingly shattered, focus on my still bare stomach. "Look at my _eyes_. Do I look like I'm in pain to you?" His jaw tightens, and he shakes his head. "That's because I'm not. You did not hurt me, Jace. This is nothing. Hell, I tore a stitch yesterday when I lifted my arm for a high five. _You did not hurt me._ "

Jace stays silent for a long time, looking into my eyes like they hold all the answers. Then, very slowly, he places an arm around my back and pulls me to him softly. "I'm sorry for freaking out. I almost lost you, Clary, and the sight of you bleeding again scared the crap out of me… I just never want to hurt you. Ever."

I smile softly, trying and failing to ignore the fact that we're both half naked, alone in the apartment. _Well this is a bummer. I doubt he'll even touch me again, at least until the stitches are out._ My arms wrap around his midsection, obviously catching him by surprise. "I love you to death, but if this means you're gonna treat me like glass, I might have to dump you," I threaten, raising my eyebrows as I look up at him. "I'm not as fragile as I look."

His saffron eyes turn into amber as he registers what I said, and he looks away hurriedly. "I-I know. I just, can't hurt you. So," he takes a breath like what he's about to say will be really difficult, "nothing like… no hanky panky until you're cleared by the doctors." _And I was right. Fuck._

I drop my head to his chest, banging my forehead on his collarbone and groaning in frustration. _Dammit…_ "I understand," I concede. "But I'm still kissing the living daylights out of you, Blondie."

Jace smirks, dropping a kiss to my forehead before wrapping his arms more securely around me. "Looking forward to it, Red."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **The first section was SUPER short, I know. But I really liked the idea of Jace making her normal Monday night happen, despite her being in the hospital. The second part makes me happy, and then my heart kinda broke for Jace, because he feels so guilty about hurting her.**

 **Next week we revisit the Sebastian topic, and of course, Valentine's Day. *wiggles eyebrows suggestively* A waste of a holiday if you ask me, but at least there's candy.**

 **Eat chocolate and review! Köszönöm!**


	21. Week 20

**Clary's POV:**

February 13- (kinda)

My cell phone vibrates on my nightstand, bright screen waking me from sleep. "Hello?" I slur tiredly, not bothering to check who's calling.

" _Clary,_ " he breathes, and I recognize the voice immediately.

"Jace? Jace what is it? What's wrong?" _He's never called in the middle of the night like this. I only saw him a few hours ago, since it's Monday, so it must be important._

He doesn't respond, but I can hear his breathing through the receiver, like he's trying to catch his breath. " _It's nothing._ "

"Jace it's… almost two in the morning," I finish, after checking my cell. "It's obviously not nothing, now tell me what's happening." I'm met with silence, and I roll my eyes frustratedly. "I'm coming over," I state, pushing back the covers.

" _No, don't. It's not worth it. I just, I just had to talk to you._ "

I sigh impatiently, laying back down. "Then talk."

He lets out a huff, " _Red, I don't actually have anything to talk about. I just needed to hear your voice._ "

I'm silent for a minute, thinking about the dreaded cold before deciding. "I'm coming over." _I can hear it in his voice. Something is wrong._

" _Red—_ "

"Something is bothering you, and I'm not going to be okay until I know what it is." I shove my feet into my rain boots, grabbing sleepily for my coat.

" _I'll come to your place then. I'm already up and practically dressed anyway._ "

"Jace, I don't mind coming to your place," I tell him honestly. _Your bed smells like you, and I love it._

" _I'll be there soon._ "

I sigh, kicking off my boots. "Okay. Text me instead of buzzing when you get here, so we don't wake Isabelle." He hums in acknowledgement and hangs up.

I lay back down, realizing what would have been too late, that I hadn't put on pants before pulling on my boots. _Guess it's a good thing Jace is coming over here instead. Plus now I can sleep next to him_ , I think happily, trying to keep my eyes open. _I always sleep better next to him. I just feel safer, warmer, and overall more comfortable._ I'm worrying my bottom lip, nervous to find out what has Jace acting this way, when my phone vibrates with a text announcing his arrival.

My fuzzy sock clad feet shuffle across the cold hardwood floor to the front door where I buzz him up. Not a minute later there's a soft knock. I open the door, and before I can get a word out his arms are around me. "Jace…" I whisper in worried astonishment, wrapping my arms around what I can reach. He's holding onto me so desperately, as if he's drowning and I'm a lifesaver.

I move us quietly into my room, sitting him on my bed before shutting the door silently. Jace's eyes haven't left me since he got here, and when I sit beside him on the bed he grasps my hands in his. "Jace? Blondie, talk to me," I demand softly, squeezing his hands.

"You don't make it." When my eyebrows furrow in confusion, he continues, "In my dreams. You never make it. There's too much blood, and I can't do anything but watch as you die in my arms." _Oh Blondie… My sweet Jace._

I pull him into me, his face buried in my neck as I sift my fingers through his hair. "Hun…" I drift off, unable to think of anything to say. What do you say in this situation? "How often does this happen?"

Jace doesn't move from his spot when he answers softly, "Every night since the incident." I suck in a sharp breath, my heart breaking for him. "I have to relive it, over and over and _over_ _again_." His voice cracks a little at the end and I hug him tighter, wishing there was someone I could beat up for hurting my Blondie like this.

I imagine him waking up in a panic, his heart racing until he manages to convince himself that I'm alright. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask quietly.

"I didn't want to burden you with that. What could you have done?" he asks, his deep voice slightly muffled by my hair.

"I would have made you dream catchers," I answer stubbornly, causing him to laugh shortly, and finally right himself so he's facing me again. "Jace, this relationship isn't a one-way thing. You have always been there for me, and I want to be there for you too. You could never be a 'burden' to me."

Jace smiles softly at me, his body drastically more relaxed than when he arrived. "I love you," he whispers, leaning forward to kiss my forehead.

"I love you, too," I answer. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this. I just wish there was something I could do." _Why can't there be a magic pill to make all the bad dreams go away? If dreamcatchers worked, I'd be making him one right now._

"This. What you're doing right now. This is perfect," he says, golden eyes glowing in the dark of my room. _He really is like a lion._

I smile and pull him softly to me by the front of his shirt, kissing him firmly on the lips. He's motionless for a second before he responds, kissing me back— much stronger than I was expecting, considering his earlier mood. _Everyone handles things differently. A makeout session seems like a pretty damn good way to deal with it._ I lean against him heavily until he lays back onto my bed, me falling on top of him with a soft "umph" from Jace. My mouth presses against his firmly, and when my tongue enters his mouth he releases a soft sigh and gives up, kissing me back.

Jace rolls us so I'm laying under him, his hips pressing mine down into the mattress. We kiss fiercely, hands moving frenzied along each other's bodies until I start panicking internally. _I wanted this. I started this. But now I'm afraid he'll want to go too far… I mean I want to have sex with him, but I don't know when. Definitely not tonight, with Isabelle in the next room._ "Isabelle," I say, making Jace pull his face away in confusion. "Isabelle is in the room right across the hall." He nods his head understandingly and rolls to the side, pulling me against him.

I chew on my bottom lip, not realizing how obvious I'm being about my thoughts until Jace asks me, "That's not the only reason we stopped, is it?" My mouth opens to tell him that it's nothing, that he shouldn't worry about it, but then I realize how much of a hypocrite that would make me. I shake my head silently. "What is it?" he questions, hand rubbing my arm comfortingly.

I take a deep breath and release it. "I don't know when I want to have sex," I tell him quietly, not meeting his eyes. I tense myself for an outburst before kicking myself. _Stop it Clary. Jace is_ not _like Sebastian. He's supportive and loving, and would never_ ever _hurt you._

He starts, obviously not expecting that answer. "Okay," he says simply, after a couple beats of silence. I look over in surprise, thinking he'd at least ask why not. "What?" he asks with a smirk. "Did you expect me to be mad or something?"

I shrug awkwardly, twiddling my thumbs. "I dunno… I mean, that's why Sebastian hit me, and even though you guys are _nothing_ alike, it wouldn't be totally completely ridiculous for you to be a little angry, because we love each other and everything…"

" _That_ is why Sebastian hit you!?" he yells angrily, and I clap a hand over his mouth, reminding him with a finger on my lips to be quiet. "That rotten, fucking _swine_ of a man. I'll kill him, I swear on the Angel I'll kill him."

I roll my eyes. "No you won't." He looks at me with disbelief, but after I shake my head at him firmly he grunts in defeat. I grab one of his hands, playing idly with his pianist's fingers. "So, you're really not upset?" I ask softly. This time it's his turn to shake his head at me, watching our hands. "But you like sex."

He barks out a soft laugh, smirking at me. "I like you more, Red."

"Okay." I smile, pulling the covers over our bodies. "I love you," I whisper, curling into his side to rest my cheek over his heart.

"I love you, too."

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

February 14-

When I wake up, sunlight is streaming into the room, and there's a heat source pressed against my right side. _Clary._ I look down, smiling when I see her red hair splayed across my chest, curls tangled into a fiery mat. She's breathing softly, warm breath fanning my arm, and I deliberate whether to get up and risk waking her.

I don't have to think long before she stirs, moaning quietly and shifting until her head is propped against my shoulder. Her green eyes open slowly, face scrunching in the light. "Hello," she says groggily, eyes closing again.

I chuckle, kissing her on the forehead. "Good morning, beautiful." _By the Angel, I just want to wake up like this every morning._

She snorts ungracefully, before sitting up and stretching, trying— and failing— to run a hand through her hair. "How did you sleep?" she asks worriedly, and my mind goes back to the dream I had before I called Clary. The nightmare this time was an exact copy of that night, up until she stopped breathing in my lap. The ambulance got there too late, and my flannel was soaked through, and she wouldn't respond even when I shook her gently.

I look at her now, messed up hair and eyes full of sleep and concern, and give her a genuine smile. "Like a baby." _No nightmares. Just like whenever I sleep next to Clary, the bad dreams stayed away, replaced by comfort and complete contentment._

"Good," she grins down at me before grabbing my hands and tugging. "Come on I'm hungry." I chuckle and follow her out into the living room/kitchen area, my own stomach sounding in agreement.

Isabelle is perched on a stool, and when she sees us come into the room together she immediately raises her delicate eyebrows. "If you two are planning on a 'day in' for Valentine's Day, go to Jace's. Simon's coming over in a bit."

Clary flushes a deep pink at her suggestive comment, and turns away quickly to heat up water for her tea. "Actually, I have plans for Clary and I that will take us out of the house," I inform her.

My girlfriend groans, turning to face me with a look of dread on her freckled face. "Jace—"

"I know you don't like all that romantic crap, so it's nothing fancy or special. We're just gonna, hang out," I finish with a shrug.

"'Hang out' means 'have sex' in boy," Izzy says, grinning when I glare at her.

"Iz? Go away." _Love her to death, but I won't hesitate to kick her out of the room. She doesn't know the conversation Clary and I had last night._ While I'm lost in thought Izzy must have left the room, because I'm brought back to reality by Clary handing me a couple waffles. She forgoes utensils and takes a bite of hers, grinning at me with a closed mouth. I chuckle and give her a chaste kiss before digging into mine.

* * *

When Clary and I get out of the cab at Floyd Bennett Field in Marine Park, I'm slightly disappointed. That feeling is instantly smashed when I look over to see Red glancing around her, wide green eyes open with wonder. We had to stop by my apartment to grab my backpack of stuff, but we made good time, arriving a little after noon. We walk around the park slowly, and though I don't find it as beautiful as Clary does, I have to admit that there's something fascinating about nature taking over the abandoned airplane hangars.

When we get to a dry area of grass I stop and spread a blanket. She's chattering animatedly about horses, which we saw enclosed in one area, as I pull out a simple lunch. "I don't get why little girls want horses! They're scary as hell to me. Their teeth are _huge_ and they can kill you with just one kick! I mean, look at what happened to Abraham Lincoln," she says defensively. _Jeez I lover her._ I grin and shake my head at her eccentrics, leaning forward to kiss her because I fucking can. "I love you so damn much," I mumble against her lips.

Clary smiles into the kiss, pulling me closer by the neckline of my shirt. "I love you, too," she breathes when we pull away, and then looks down at her hands. "And I'm glad you're okay with, like… waiting a little bit. I don't even know when I'll be ready; it could be a week from now, or tomorrow. I just, the whole thing kinda still scares me, embarrassing as that is."

"Wait, are you… are you a virgin?" I ask delicately, looking at her incredulously. _Surely not…?_

She cringes, fidgeting a little. "No, no. I just… The last serious boyfriend I had just wanted me for sex. He dated me for quite a while because I was the perpetual virgin, and he wanted to change that." _Holy shit, what?_

"That's horrible," I state, brows scrunching up in anger at the thought of someone hurting her. "I can't believe someone would do that to _you_." _Why? She's beautiful. And smart, and funny, and so incredibly talented and the sweetest person I've ever met. Actually just the_ best _person I've ever met._

She finally looks at me, confusion etched into her beautiful features. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're— perfect," I say with furrowed brows, shrugging because it should be obvious. _How am I lucky enough to be with her? She should've been swept off her feet_ long _ago._

She lets out a real laugh at that, and I automatically smile at the sound. "You are the only person in the world that thinks that, Jace."

I shake my head, pulling her closer on the blanket before wrapping an arm around her. "No, I'm the _luckiest_ person in the world to _know_ that."

She grins and kisses me again before leaning back on a hand and taking a bite of the sandwich I made. "You were right. You _do_ make a mean cheese sandwich."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Kay so the first part was kinda sad, because there's nothing you can do about bad dreams. (If someone knows of something, hit a girl up) I for one think Floyd Bennett Field is beautiful, but it's not for everyone. My friend said it sounded boring, so I said he's boring, which he didn't appreciate. Next week Clary gets her stitches out so things might get a little… heated. *wink wink***

 **This is as good a time as any to tell you guys that there are 5 more chapters after this. I think 25 chapters is a good way to end it, so *shrugs***

 **Go review! Raibh maith agat!**


	22. Week 21

**Jace's POV:**

February 20-

I'm taking care of one of my usuals, Blackwell, when the chime above the door rings. I glance over just in time to see Clary skip in, trip a little, and keep going until she's standing behind her usual seat. I chuckle at her clumsiness, and finish up with Blackwell before hurrying over to her. "Hey Red. How are you?" I ask, although I can already tell she's got good news.

" _I_ am _great_ , my dear boyfriend! Wanna know why?" she asks dramatically, still not sitting down. I nod my head, already excited to see what has her in such a good mood. _It's not a new Fairchild piece, I know that. I don't think there's anything new with Izzy or Simon…?_ "Great! I'll tell you!" She lifts her shirt quickly, showing the bottom edge of her bra.

"Clary! Put your shirt down, you'll start a riot," I scold her, only half joking as I take note of the two men at the other end of the bar shamelessly staring at my girlfriend.

She simply rolls her eyes with a snort, and lifts her shirt again, albeit more carefully so that only her abdomen is showing. "No stitches!" she yells, bright grin splitting her freckled face.

I focus in on the right side of her abdomen, successfully hiding my wince behind my excitement for her. "That's great, Red! When did you get them taken out?" I question, walking around the bar towards her, examining the healed wound more closely.

"This morning. I was pleasantly surprised to find that having them removed doesn't hurt nearly as much as getting them. It's more like a pinching," she explains, pinching my arm for affect.

I grin, chuckling at her wonderful eccentrics. I run my fingers along her healed injury softly, the bright pink contrasting starkly against her pale skin. _This is going to leave a scar._ She shivers at my touch, albeit subtly, but I catch it still, and smirk at her.

Clary narrows her eyes at me and pulls her shirt down hastily, slapping my hand away. "Don't you have a bar to run instead of flirting with the customers, Blondie?" she asks sassily, crossing her arms.

I laugh, giving her a kiss on the temple before returning behind the bar to grab her a beer. "Are you saying I shouldn't flirt with you anymore, Red?" I tease. _Like I could pretend she wasn't here. I'd have to go to the back room in order to keep myself from watching her, and even then she'd be constantly on my mind._

She scoffs, finally sitting down at her chair. "As if you can resist all this. You can't ignore me anymore than I can ignore you," she says confidently, and I know without a doubt that she's right.

"I suppose you're right."

She grins cheekily. "I'm always right."

"Ehh…" I shrug dismissively, laughing at her astonished face. "Alright, like 99% of the time."

"Fair enough," she concedes, taking a swig of her beer. "What's your week like?"

"Work tomorrow. And Wednesday. Friday and Saturday, too. Oh, and Thursday," I answer, joking tiredly. "Football is wrapping up, but NASCAR season is just getting started, and they come in earlier in the day."

Clary nods her head understandingly. "Yeah. I'm working a lot in the next week, too. I'm free to go back starting tomorrow, and I need to make up for lost time, so I'll be covering some other nurse's shifts."

"Don't overdo it, please?" I beg, narrowing my eyes at her worriedly.

She rolls her green eyes at me, smirk taking place on her lips. "I'll be fine, Jace. I was cleared by the doctor, but if I need any help with anything, I have other people there to lend a hand," she assures me.

I nod my head and leave to get her wings. _I can't help but be nervous. The nightmares aren't happening every night, but still occurring more often than not. Ever since she got shot, I really just never want her to leave my side. I mean I never did before, but this is different._

* * *

"You have work tomorrow," I remind her gently, swaying us slowly in the empty bar.

Clary's red head is resting on my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my torso. "I don't care," she says stubbornly. "I don't start until eleven anyway."

"But you hate mornings, and you should get a lot of rest while you're still recovering." _Why on Earth am I arguing? She wants to spend the night at my apartment. I love it when she stays over. The sheets smell like her the next day, and she almost always leaves sketches in random places. She brings life into the compulsively clean and cold environment._

She tightens her grip on me, not budging from her spot. "I hate not being with you more, and I always sleep better when I'm with you anyways… Do you not want me to come over?" she asks quietly, trying not to look hurt.

"No, Clary that's not it. I don't know why I'm arguing," I tell her honestly, shaking my head.

"Good then let's go." She urges me towards the door, waiting for me to lock up completely—I got new locks installed after the burglar was able to pick the lock so easily. _Man she's persistent_ , I muse as she all but drags me the couple blocks to my apartment building.

When the elevator doors close to bring us to my floor Clary shifts closer, looking up at me with her wide green eyes that I love so much. _What are you up to, Red…_ My question is answered soon, when she raises onto her tiptoes and grabs the back of my neck gently, kissing me full on the mouth. I'm surprised by her abruptness, but react quickly, pulling her body flush against mine.

The elevator _pings_ when we reach my floor but I don't let her go even when the doors slide open, instead walking her backwards slowly until we reach my door. I pull away reluctantly to unlock my door, and she glides kisses along my jaw and neck, making me groan internally and push her against the wall. The instant the door's unlocked I grab her thighs, lifting her so she can wrap her legs around my waist. She does, and the feeling is just as heavenly as it was the last time.

I slam the door shut with my foot, and Clary's nimble fingers work me out of my coat before shedding her own. I hear my keys fall to the floor but don't pay any mind, focusing instead on feeling my way to the couch without tripping and making us both fall. I sit down with her still wrapped around me, her thighs on either side of my legs. She shifts until she's seated right on my lap, making me groan at the feeling of our cores meeting even if we are both fully clothed.

My hands glide up her body until one is tangled in her scarlet curls, the other on her back pressing her closer. When Clary moves, her hips glide against mine softly, causing my hands to tighten and a moan to escape both of our mouths. She does it again, tentatively, and after getting the same reaction she repeats the motion over and over again.

I'm gripping her waist tightly, trying to stay still so I don't move things further than she wants. When her hands move from pulling at my hair to pulling at my shirt, I only hesitate a second before complying and tugging it over my head. Her fingers start tracing patterns across my chest and arms, and I can't stop my hips from bucking up into hers, making her release a sound between a gasp and a moan. _I want to make her make that sound every fucking day._

She crosses her arms in front of her to pull her own shirt over her head and for a moment I just stare up at her. "What?" she asks self-consciously, crease forming between her eyebrows.

 _Oh nothing. You're just fucking gorgeous and moving on top of me and fuck these jeans are really uncomfortable._ "Nothing," I say breathlessly. "I love you."

Clary smiles at me, and whispers "I love you, too," before kissing me again. I move my way down her neck, nipping at the juncture to her shoulder and sucking on her collarbones. When my kisses trail down to her chest, she gasps, fingers getting tangled in my shaggy hair. My hands skim along her torso, bringing her impossibly closer, and her hips grind hard against mine. _Shit._

I groan and shift us quickly so that I'm laid on top of her, mouth reclaiming hers. Clary wraps one of her legs around my waist to align our hips, effectively rubbing my hardness against her center. _Fuck._ I pull away as we both moan at the feeling, watching her face intently as I palm her over her bra. She gasps but doesn't complain, swollen lips parted and green eyes wide and dark. _Damn she's beautiful._ When my hand glides up her back she arches into me, allowing me space to remove her bra. I gulp and grab the clasp, making sure she's okay with it before unhooking and flinging the object somewhere behind me. _So fucking beautiful._

She flushes a deep crimson, chewing her bottom lip furiously. I halt her nervous habit by catching her mouth with my own. "You are gorgeous, Clary," I tell her, kissing her again more forcefully. When my hands go to massage her breasts, she gasps into my mouth, moving her hips under mine. _Fucking hell._ I press her hips back into the couch, placing open-mouthed kisses down her neck towards her chest, her pale fingers sifting through my hair.

Suddenly there's a loud banging on the door, breaking us both from the spell. "Jace!" the person screams from the other side, a high voice, undeniably female. _You've got to be kidding me._ Clary pushes me off her, sitting up ramrod straight as she stares at the door with wide eyes. "Jaaace!" she yells again, still pounding on my door. _Fuck. Who the hell would be here this late?_

I give Clary a quick kiss before rising off the couch, taking a second to adjust myself before heading to the door. _Whoever this is, is about to feel the fury of Jace Wayland. They better get lost,_ right _now._ I open the door harshly, just a crack so that whoever it is doesn't see inside the apartment. But who I see there rocks me to the core; anger, confusion, and dread swirling inside until I see red. "Kaelie?"

I glance inside to see that Clary has donned my discarded t-shirt, leaning nervously against the back of the couch. Kaelie takes advantage of my distraction and shoves into the apartment, heeled boots clacking on my hardwood floors. "You never returned my calls!" she yells. "I've been trying to get ahold of you since I got back into town, and you don't even have the decency to call me back!? I left you like, a hundred messages, and you—" she cuts off, noticing Clary for the first time. "Who the fuck is this!?"

I step between her and Clary, staring at Kaelie harshly. "My girlfriend. She's my girlfriend." _What the fuck do you care? We were never a thing, go away!_

"Your _what_!?" she screeches, glue eyes blazing. "You have a girlfriend!? Not that it would've made much difference, but why didn't you tell me!?" _Ugh, she thinks I was sleeping with her while I was with Clary? Hell to the no._

"Because it's none of your business, Kaelie. We were never a couple, and we haven't seen each other in ages. You have no right to be angry. Actually, you have no right to be _here_ ," I clarify, walking around her to yank the door open. "Leave, now."

Her bottom lip, painted an obnoxious hot pink, trembles in dramatic distress, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. _I can't believe I ever had a thing with her._ "You-you're kicking me out?" she asks with watery eyes. When I nod my head firmly, the sadness turns to anger. "You're picking _her_ over _me_!? Are you serious!? Who even is she!? I mean why are you even with her!? She's so short and pale, and she has freckles for crying out loud, and her _hair_ —"

"Don't you dare talk about her that way!" I roar, hands shaking with anger. "Get out of my apartment, Kaelie, or I swear on the Angel…" Her mouth drops open in shock, before she snaps it shut and shoots Clary a nasty glare, stomping out the door with her fake nose high in the air.

I slam the door behind her and slide the lock into place, taking a few calming breaths before turning to Clary. And my heart breaks. She's leaning heavily against the couch, shoulders sagging although her eyes are steadily trained on an outlet on the opposite wall. "Red…" I whisper tentatively, hating myself for letting Kaelie say those things about her.

"Why didn't you break it off with her?" she asks, not looking at me.

I furrow my brows in confusion, worry taking root deep in my chest. _She knows Kaelie and I didn't date. I told her long ago that she's my first girlfriend, my first love, my first everything… And surely she must know that I would never cheat on her with Kaelie—or_ anyone _for that matter._ "We didn't date," I remind her. "There was nothing to break off."

Clary scoffs and pushes off the couch, finally facing me. Her emerald eyes are glassy, the sadness and doubt in them hitting me like a punch to the gut. "I know you didn't date. But you guys, you had a thing. No matter how casual, it wasn't a one-time encounter. And you didn't even think to put an end to it?"

"I haven't seen her since before I met you, Clary. I _did_ put an end to it—"

"By not answering any of her calls!? I'll give you a tip for any future relationships, Jace: you can't end things by ignoring them and hoping they'll get the message," she snaps, hand running through her hair haphazardly. ' _Future relationships'? No, Clary_ is _my future relationship. There's no doubt in my mind that she's the love of my life, and I'm not going to let Kaelie ruin things…_

"You're right. You are. I should've met with her, or called her up and ended things officially. I just didn't know how to break it off with Kaelie without there being drama, and then she left town anyway…" I tell her honestly, pleading guilty right away.

Clary lets out a sharp laugh, shaking her head and crossing her arms. _Not a good sign…_ "You don't think this was drama? You really think this was better than the awkwardness of breaking up with someone you didn't even technically date?"

"I don't know what I was thinking," I say, shaking my head. "But you have to know, Clary. I didn't cheat on you. I haven't so much as thought of her since I met you, and that's the truth. Please, _please_ … Don't—don't let this become something bigger than my sheer stupidity. I never wanted to hurt you, Red. I love you so damn much, and I just want to continue where we left off." When she narrows her eyebrows and a deadpan look takes over, I realize how that must've sounded. "Not—I mean, not like, back on the couch. I mean in our relationship. I can't lose you, Clary, not over something like this."

She rolls her eyes but doesn't say anything as she slips her feet into her boots and walks up to where I'm still standing by the door. "I never thought you cheated, Jace. I know you love me—although Kaelie had some good points about it not making too much sense," she mumbles quietly, picking up her coat from the floor. I open my mouth to reprimand her, call her beautiful and Kaelie a bitch, but she continues. "But you have to think about it from my point of view… I trust you, with my whole heart, I do. But I can't help but wonder if there isn't some part of you that didn't really stop things with Kaelie, because you don't really want to stop how you were. It wasn't a bad life, being the ultimate bachelor/bartender Jace Wayland…"

She walks past me slowly, until she reaches the door. "Clary—"

"Don't answer now. I just want you to be happy, Jace. That's all I want. And I think that, in order for you to find out what it is that will make you happiest, you need space and time to think." I shake my head furiously, and she looks down at her keys and cellphone in her hand, sniffing so quietly I almost miss it. "And so do I."

 _No, nonono._ My heart stutters in my chest, fever breaking out on my forehead and nausea mixing up my stomach. _Don't leave, Clary. Please don't leave me._ "I love you," I tell her, my voice cracking on the last word.

Clary's mouth quirks up on the right side, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I love you, too, Blondie." Without another word, she turns and walks out of my door, and for all I know, out of my life.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This isn't how I originally saw this chapter ending, but I kinda like it, so it's staying. Just don't hate me.**

 **Do you think Jace will choose Clary or the single life? Will Clary believe him? Find out next week!**

 **Review to make me happy! Spas dikim!**


	23. Week 22

**Clary's POV:**

February 27-

"You're late," Izzy warns as she plops down beside me on the couch. I shrug in response, staring at my phone that's been depressingly silent all week. She sighs, setting down her mug of hot chocolate and turning to me. "I know you don't wanna talk about it, but too bad. I'm your best friend, and Jace's cousin, and I ship you two so hard… Why are you ignoring him? You know what his answer is going to be. All he wants—all he's ever wanted since he met you—is you."

I face her, twisting my hair nervously. "Then why didn't he stop things with Kaelie?"

"He did! He didn't hook up with her, or even call her back. I'm not saying you're wrong; he definitely should've _told_ her that it was over. But you have to remember that Jace has never been in a relationship before. He's new to this entire thing," she reminds me softly, shrugging. "You and I both know how crazy he is about you."

"But what Kaelie said—"

"Kaelie is a selfish whore, who was upset that Jace chose you. Don't think for even a minute that what she said is true. You're beautiful, hell Jace tells you that every day," she adds with an annoyed flip of her hair. I smile a little at that, but continue playing with my hair. "What's wrong, Clary? I've never seen you like this."

I take a breath and let it out harshly, falling deeper into the chair. "I'm just nervous, I guess. I love him, Iz. But how many 'Kaelies' am I going to have to deal with? How many times is a crazed ex going to barge into our relationship, making me feel pathetic and just plain insignificant?" I huff and chew my lip furiously. "I do love him. But what if his past overshadows our future?"

Izzy sighs and strokes my hair out of my face in a comforting gesture. "Everyone has a past, Clary. Even you. I understand where you're coming from with your fears, but I think the most important thing to think about is whether or not _Jace_ makes you feel pathetic and insignificant. Unless I'm completely mixed up, I'm going to say he makes you feel the exact opposite. He loves you, and has changed _so much_ , even in the relatively short time that he's known you." I nod, sinking into her side as I listen to the only voice of reason I have in my life. "Now, you just have to find out for yourself, if _you_ think that having the occasional whore traipse into your lives is worth giving up what you have with Jace."

My heart instantly picks up at the thought of not being with Jace and I shake my head. "I don't want to lose him. I can't lose him. Not over something from his past, that he can't even control," I tell her, kicking myself for being so irrational and immature about the whole situation.

Isabelle stands from the couch abruptly and pulls me up forcefully, a smirk that looks much too similar to Jace's on her face. "Then what are you still doing here?"

 _What would I even do without Iz?_ After giving her a quick hug, I run to slip on my boots and coat, and soon I'm out the door. I think of everything I need to tell Jace while walking to Wayland's, but now that I'm here I don't know what to say. _How do I even start? Shit._

I open the door, walking in slowly. It's already after nine, so the bar is unsurprisingly dead. Jace is leaning against the bar across from my empty seat, but when he hears the bell above the door chime his head snaps up, golden eyes boring into mine. He doesn't say a word as he walks around the bar to me.

"I am _so_ sorry," I start, hands clasped in front of me.

His brows furrow in what looks like confusion, and he takes a few breaths before speaking. "How are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry I doubted you… I doubted that you wanted to be with me, especially after what Kaelie said, and I just thought, ya know, 'What if I'm holding him back? What if he misses how things used to be?' And then my overimaginitave brain started thinking about how I would feel if what happened last week happened all the time, without even recognizing the fact that you have no control over what your crazy exes do."

Jace is staring at me, obviously surprised by my apology. "Clary… I-I—" he cuts off, having a hard time finding words. "Can I hold you?" I raise my eyebrows at his question, but smile softly and nod my head. Fast as lightning he's closing the distance and his arms are around me, holding tight like he's afraid I'll run away. "I missed you. So much… Red, you don't have anything to apologize for. I didn't have _any_ reason for not telling Kaelie it was over, other than not wanting to man up and deal with it. You said you wanted me to be happy, and I am, _so_ happy, when I'm with you. There's a difference between 'not a bad life' and 'a great life,' and with you I have a great life," he tells me, one hand twirling my curls. "As for the 'crazy exes messing everything up,' I can't promise that it won't happen again, but I can promise to react the same way every time. I'll always defend you, and I'll always throw her out, and I'll always make sure you know how special you are to me."

I smile against Jace's chest, inhaling his natural scent that I love so much. "Yeah, you sure knew how to pick them," I say jokingly, to which he chuckles and squeezes my sides. "I love you."

He releases a breath hastily, almost sounding relieved as he hugs me tighter. "I love you, too, Red. I'll never stop."

We stand in the middle of his abandoned bar, and my mind flashes back to last week when we were in this exact position. "Take me home?" I ask quietly, although it's phrased as more of a demand than a request. _I just want to be with him tonight._ Because my head is still buried in his chest, I feel rather than see him nod.

Jace and I walk to his apartment slowly, hands clasped between us as we talk about our past week. Blood floods my cheeks when I spy the couch in his living room, and I leave the room once my coat and bag are hung by his front door. _No crazy ex tonight._ When we get to his room he sheds his shirt, my green eyes watching him carry out his normal bedtime routine.

I announce that I'm going to take a shower and he nods his head, giving me a breathtaking smile. I take a quick shower—for me anyway—and towel myself off before donning my pajamas, which consist of panties and Jace's t-shirt. Glancing into the slightly foggy mirror one more time, I lift my chin. _This is fine. You love Jace, and he loves you._ I leave the bathroom quietly with a nervous grin on my face, seeing Jace standing by his window, looking out at the New York skyline. There's a post-it with my sketch of the skyline stuck up from a couple weeks ago, and I giggle at the fact that he'd taped it to the window.

When he hears my laugh he looks over, tawny eyes darkening slightly when he sees me wearing his t-shirt. _Don't be a chicken, Clary._ I walk up behind him, my arms wrapping around his midsection. "Hi," I say quietly, not sure what else to say. _How do you even initiate this kind of thing? I can't just jump him… Can I?_ I place a kiss between his shoulderblades, grinning when he tenses. _Maybe I'm overthinking it. Sounds like me._ I let my hands wander over his torso, lightly tracing the muscles on his abdomen through his shirt.

Jace clears his throat quietly. "Hello Red," he whispers, not moving an inch as I continue teasing him. "You going to bed?"

"Mhm," I hum in response. "You coming?" He sucks in a subtle breath when my hand trails dangerously close to the waistband of his flannel pants. His body turns to me, mouth open to answer but he stops short when our eyes meet, both darkened with lust. I watch as he snaps his mouth shut and visibly swallows, nodding his head. I smirk and walk backwards toward his bed, making him grin and rush after me, lifting me off the ground. "Jace!" I yelp, not trying too hard to escape his hold on me. I feel his breath behind my ear, and stop wiggling, heart hammering in my chest. He chuckles darkly and lets me back on my feet, mouth nibbling lightly on my earlobe. I release a small moan, blush taking place in my cheeks. "I want you, Jace," I whisper, spinning to face him. His wide eyes speculate me for a moment before he lifts me by my waist and I wrap my legs around him, kissing him hungrily. Soon he attempts to invade my mouth and I let him, our tongues battling for dominance. My fingers wind into his golden hair, and I feel a sense of courage at the growl he makes when I tug.

We fall to his bed in an awkward mess of limbs, both of us chuckling. I tighten my hold around his waist, bringing him impossibly closer so he brushes up against me, and the pleasure from that simple movement is incredible. Jace and I moan together, and he rubs against me again. "Fuck," I breathe, squirming beneath him.

Jace moves his lips to my ear, placing small kisses along my jaw. "What was that, Clary?" he asks teasingly. His hands trail down my body, reaching for the hem of the t-shirt and sliding his hands up. My head falls back, loving how soft his touch is as it climbs up my inner thigh. He's grinning, knowing exactly what I said. _The bastard. I'd pull away, but it feels too good._

I moan his name, moving slightly to get his fingers to slide up further, where I really want him. Jace slips his hand into my panties, running his fingers along me. "Say it," he commands softly.

"Jace," I groan as he continues his ministrations. "Shut up and touch me." He chuckles against the skin of my neck before a finger enters me, making me gasp. _My first—and only—time wasn't like this. By the Angel it feels so good._

He trails his mouth along my neck and shoulder, humming quietly. "You're so wet, Red." He presses my clit while continuing to slide his finger in and out, and the pleasure that flows through my body is incredible. I let my eyes flutter shut as my head falls back against the pillows.

"By the Angel," I breathe when he inserts a second finger. Jace smiles against my skin, moving his hand a little faster. I move my hands to grip his shoulders to steady myself. "You stop and I kill you," I threaten halfheartedly. My body shudders when he enters another finger. _Sweet shit._

"Since you asked so nicely," he jokes, trailing kisses down to lower the collar on his t-shirt I'm wearing, while the hand not between my legs lifts the shirt slowly. In my rush to feel his hands everywhere, I grab the shirt and lift it up over my head. Jace leans up onto his elbow, dark saffron eyes burning into my skin as he looks at my body. "Shit." My brows furrow in confusion, and he continues, "You're so gorgeous, Clary."

I smile at his words when his hand move faster, making me clutch at the sheets. Jace's mouth descends further, lips trailing across my breasts down to my navel. My grip on his pristine linens tightens as my body goes crazy. _I feel like a live wire. Too hot and too cold._

When Jace's mouth arrives between my legs, he places soft kisses along my inner thighs. He lifts my leg over his shoulder, and if I wasn't practically panting with need, I would be mortified. He grips my panties with his teeth, dragging them down my legs, and I all but sob as my head falls back again.

My eyes close, and I feel his breath against me. Jace's hand continues it's quick movements, and his mouth is added, making me gasp loudly. "Fuck. Jace, don't you dare stop." My fingers get tangled in his hair, holding him there. He spreads my legs wider, mouth moving more determined. "Jace…" I whisper. "Jace shit I'm close." My body arches into him, fingers tightening in his hair.

When he lets out a growl my body starts, euphoria rushing through my body. "Fuck!" I scream, moaning loudly when he keeps going, my vision going white as I collapse beneath him. When I get my whits about me, I run a hand through my hair, chest still heaving. "Damn." Humiliation hits me like a freight train when he rises from his spot, crawling to me. _I can't even look at him right now…_

"Clary," Jace hedges, turning my face towards him. "You don't have anything to be embarrassed about. Don't you know how amazing you are?" My head moves back and forth, but my burning face starts to cool. "You're fucking perfect, and I love you so much."

Jace's hands softly trace my body, as if trying to memorize me. He kisses me soft but firm, and I pull at his shirt until he understands and removes it. My pale fingers contrast against his tanned skin, lightly tracing down his abs until I get to the blond trail of hair leading underneath the waistband of his pants.

Going on instinct, I reach inside, hand grasping his member. Jace's fingers instantly tighten on my skin, spitting out a curse before he moans in pleasure. My hand moves up and down his length slowly, until I remove his pajama pants and boxers.

We get caught up in the heated frenzy of kisses and touches, and soon he breaks off our kiss, reaching into his bedside table for something. _A condom._ "I'm on the pill," I whisper, placing a hand on his reaching arm. I stroke his length a few more times, slowly, and he shudders violently. He nods curtly before placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

I feel my heart pounding wildly against my ribcage as Jace hitches one of my knees over his hip. "I love you, Clary," he says quietly. I smile despite my nerves, and sift my fingers through his softly curling hair.

"I love you, too, Blondie," I tell him. He grins, teeth flashing in the dark, before he captures my lips in a soft kiss, and sheaths himself inside me unhurriedly. I can't stop the flinch when a dull ache forms deep within me because it's been so long since I've done this, and my fingers clutch his arms harder.

Jace places comforting and apologetic kisses along my face, body tense as a wire as he tries not to move. "By the Angel," he grits out, dropping his head next to mine on the pillow. I get over the pain quickly, and start thinking of how to tell him to keep going. _I can't just say 'Bro, move.' But I want him so badly. I love him so much, and last week he made me realize how much I_ want _him, too. And not in a slow and soft kind of way._

I lean forward a little to place hot kisses toward his neck. His eyes, dark but glowing gold, evaluate me asking if I'm alright. I manage to give him a small smile and nod, a single red curl falling into my face. Jace releases a soft chuckle and brushes it out of my face before moving steadily in and out. "Fuck, you feel so good," he whispers, placing soft kisses along my neck. I release a small moan and wrap my other leg around him. _He feels good, too. So good, I need more. I need him. Strong, fast, and determined._

I lightly rake my fingernails down his back, and with a hint of apprehension, softly nibble his earlobe. "I need you, Jace," I whisper in a voice so laden with lust I'm suprised when it escapes my mouth. He shivers slightly as his rough hands travel down my body before coming to my waist and squeezing hard, speeding up his thrusts.

"Fuck, Clary," he groans. I moan loudly and bring him closer with my legs. His hot mouth assaults my neck and chest, making me shiver and gasp in pleasure.

I desperately cling to him—his hair, shoulders, and then locking onto his arms—to get a grip on my sanity, but I can't do it. "J-Jace," I gasp, as I feel my release approaching.

Jace is moving much faster now, actions less controlled as he pounds into me. "Shit, Red," he groans, one hand moving to fondle my breasts while the other steadies himself above me. I moan quietly at the onslaught of pleasure washing through me, threatening to drown me completely.

When Jace presses a few touches to my clit I break, convulsing around him uncontrollably. He curses loudly, hands gripping me tight while he thrusts a few more times, hurried and piston-like. "Fucking hell, Jace!" He growls my name next to my ear as I feel him come undone inside me, and I whimper at the sensation. At being completely sated, completely at peace, with the person I love most in the world.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Thank God for Isabelle, keeping these crazy kids straight. So they made up, and did the diddly. Since this is my first fanfic, this was also my first smut/lemon/whatever. Hopefully it wasn't too awkward or anything.**

 **Please please please review! Takk skal du ha!**


	24. Week 23

**Author's Note: I'm so so so sorry I missed yesterday! This chapter is the first since I started this series that I didn't have done at least a week in advance. I just didn't have any creative juices. I literally sat at my computer ALL DAY, and NOTHING. But then I took a shower before bed, and I should've known that would work, because I always have my best ideas when in the shower. Cause I'm weird like that. Anyways, here's Week 23!**

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

March 6-

I shift a little and stare ahead, trying to listen to the older woman critiquing my paintings without being too obvious about it. _One of the good things about remaining anonymous: I get to hear candidly what others think about my work._ Arms wind around my waist from behind and I nearly jump out of my skin before the golden skin tone both calms and warms my heart.

"I can't decide if I should look at the miraculous artwork, or the beauteous artist who created it," he jokes, giving me a kiss behind the ear.

I grin and turn in his arms, placing a chaste but lingering kiss on his lips. "You're here."

"I am indeed," he muses.

"But how? What about the bar?" I ask, brows furrowed. _I don't like the thought of him abandoning his job for me, no matter how sweet it is._

He shrugs and smirks, squeezing me closer. "I have a life now. I have you. I don't want to live at the bar, that's what I have employees for," he explains, making me smile. "Besides, I could hear in your voice how important this was to you. Your fourth and final piece to your 'Shadow World' collection."

I chuckle and turn back around, placing my arms over his on my waist. "Yeah, I am pretty excited. The four seasons, and now it's complete. I just hope they decide to show some of my artwork that's _not_ revolved around New York," I trail off, chewing my lip.

"You think that's why they show your work?" Jace asks, taking my silence as an answer. "No way, Clary. You are an amazing artist. _That's_ why they choose to show your artwork here. Never doubt yourself, or how amazing you are."

I chew my lip, unconvinced, and turn back to look at my most recent painting. It's a painting of Central Park, colorful in springtime tones, but nothing overly compelling. There are bushes along the left side, green grass spread on the right. A bit of the lake is visible straight ahead, and trees are scattered around in well-spaced places. People are lounging about and playing frisbee and walking dogs, living life on a spring day.

"The amount of detail is jarring," Jace says by my ear, chin resting on my shoulder. "I've always loved that about your work. It honestly makes you believe, if only for a moment, that you're there in the park."

I smile and lean against him, trying to see the painting how he sees it. _I add detail to make it more realistic. So what? A lot of artists' work is detailed._ "Are those fairies?" he asks suddenly, staring intently at the bottom right corner of the piece. I nod. "I was so entranced by the individual blades of grass, that I almost missed it."

I painted faeries into the bushes, hiding behind leaves, crystalline wings fluttering as they fly between the low branches. "I didn't want them depicted as Tinker Bell, though," I explain. No, these creatures have complexions in soft shades of blue, green, and pearl. One has hair that looks as if it's made out of flowers. Their features are fierce and beautiful, almost regal in their delicacy.

"They don't," Jace assures me. "It's their eyes that strike me as especially odd. They're in varying hues of blue, some almost as clear as glass, with no whites." I nod in agreement, and we stare at the four paintings hanging side by side in the quiet mumble of the art fanatics. "You really are exceptional, Clary. Adelante Studios would be lucky to show more of your work."

I smile and lean back against him. I'm about to attempt to explain how lucky _I_ am to have _him_ when an older man approaches us.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear, but, did you say that you were the artist who painted these here? With the four seasons?" he asks curiously.

Jace squeezes my hand reassuringly, and I make the decision to claim responsibility of my artwork for once in my professional life. "Uh, yes, sir," I answer quietly, looking around to make sure no one else heard.

The man's face lights up and he grabs my hand in a firm shake, "Oh, my dear. You are a true talent."

I feel my face flush, and I'm sure my expression is one of utter surprise. It takes me a few seconds to mutter out a proper, "Thank you."

"Of course. I have to ask though. Do you paint freelance?"

My mouth drops open in shock, and it takes a nudge from Jace to get me to answer. "Y-yes. Sir. I accept some jobs, within certain parameters."

"Splendid! My wife and I have been meaning to get our portrait done since our 50th anniversary. Do you have a card, so I could contact you?" he asks.

"Yes," I spit out, kicking myself immediately. _No you don't, Clary._ "No. I mean, no, I'm afraid I didn't bring any with me tonight. I have a pen, however." I dig through my messenger bag for a scrap sheet of paper that isn't too crumpled, and Jace gives me a kiss on the head before walking a couple paces away, I'm sure to let me get shit done.

I give the man my email address, however keeping the name Ms. Fairchild as my alias. When he walks away, I stand in silence, frozen in the aftermath of the bombshell that was just dropped in my lap. _People like my art. Other than just my family and friends. They want to_ hire me themselves _! Holy fuck on a falafel…_

My thoughts are interrupted by another man, this one considerably younger than the last. "Hi, I, um. Are you, Fairchild?" he asks, hands tucked deep into his front pockets.

"Yeah, I am," I answer honestly, keeping my voice even lower and an even closer eye on the people around us, since I'd obviously missed this little eavesdropper.

"Wow. I'm sorry, I just imagined that you'd be older. Your artwork is amazing," he states, and I smile kindly at the compliment.

"Thank you," I respond, and his brown eyes squint at me curiously.

He leans in closer, looking around the room in a way similar to my own action. "Might I ask why you're whispering?"

I chuckle nervously, twisting a red curl behind my ear. "Sorry," I apologize, raising my voice to a more normal range. "I just— I'd like to stay anonymous, is all." I shrug.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, uh, blow your cover." I laugh and shake my head, assuring him that he did no such thing.

I feel a presence behind me and soon Jace's arm is around my shoulder. "What's so funny?" he asks nonchalantly, but his saffron eyes are staring daggers into the guy in front of me.

Mr. No Name nods his head in understanding, shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Nothing, really. I was just congratulating this beautiful artist's amazing art— or, I uh— amazing artist's beautiful artwork," he corrects himself, staring at the only blank wall in the building with keen interest. _Poor guy._ "Anyway. I'll uh. Good work. Really amazing paintings."

"Thank you," I offer with a smile, waving a little awkwardly as he walks away slowly. He nods, giving me a half smile half wince in return, and wishing us both a good night. "Well," I start, facing Jace. "He was nice."

He scoffs, and I could almost swear I heard a mumbled 'gone fucking five minutes' escape his mouth. Although he does look less grumpy, there's still a noticeable groove between his eyebrows.

"Jace?" He looks down at me, raising an eyebrow in question. My finger smooths out the furrow on his forehead, then resting my hand against his cheek. I rise up on my tiptoes and give him a lingering kiss on the mouth before wrapping my arms around his chest. "Thank you for being here tonight. It really means a lot."

Jace smirks and gives me a kiss on the nose before wrapping his arm around my shoulders again and steering us toward the doors. "Of course, Red. Anything for you."

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

March 8-

"Am I crushing you?"

I look down at Clary, who's laying across my chest, and cock my head to the side. "No. Why would you think that?"

"Because I'm laying on top of you," she states, a truly adorable crease forming between her eyebrows.

"Yeah, but you're so small," I laugh. "The top of your head barely reaches my collarbone."

"I may be only five foot two inches, but I weigh like 150 pounds," she challenges with both brows raised.

"Clary, you're beautiful," I insist, shaking my head at her. "I can see that this is slippery slope so I might regret saying anything, but oh well. Your weight doesn't mean anything to me, because you're healthy. Girls nowadays are trying to be thin to the point of being unhealthy, but you're perfect how you are. And I really, really hope that you can see that." Clary stares at me in obvious surprise, and I feel a twinge of sadness that she even has these doubts. _Why would she think that she's too big? She's sturdy, but that's because she's a_ human being _. I love her curves just as much as I love her red hair and green eyes. They're a part of her, and I would never dream of changing any of it._

Clary kisses me on the mouth, soft but firm, like a silent thank you. We kiss for a good long while, just enjoying a lazy Wednesday watching Netflix in bed. I'm not sure what causes the shift in moods, but I am _not_ going to question it. Because the next thing I know she's ripping at my clothes and I'm honestly just trying to stay sane and not attack her. She makes her way under the waistband of my sweatpants quickly, and her hand rubs along the outside of my boxer briefs, making my hips buck slightly.

I move next, switching positions so that she's underneath me on the bed. I reach under my shirt that she's wearing as a dress and yank her panties down, hand moving between her legs. Clary moans loudly and shifts beneath me, and I kiss her hard, making my way down her neck. She wriggles again, making a distracted attempt to lower my pants and boxers. _Shit. Hold on a sec, Red._

I make awkward work of removing the rest of my clothing, and Clary strips her shirt at the same time, laying back under me and wrapping one of her legs around my hips. I grind against her automatically, shuddering at the feeling and the anticipation. She groans in response, gripping my wrist tightly. "Jace," she pleads, making me impossibly harder than I already was.

I smirk and kiss her again, my tongue working smoothly against hers as I thrust into her, causing us both to moan into each other's mouths. My hips move slowly at first, always afraid I'll hurt her, despite my knowledge of how strong she is. Her green eyes fall shut, her chest rising and falling with pants as her eyebrows furrow in concentration. _Fuck. Why is she so sexy? Who gave her the right?_

I move my mouth back to Clary's neck, a mixture of light pecks, soft bites, and rough kisses along the ivory column of skin. She laces her fingers in my hair and shifts her legs higher, knees bent so her thighs are even with her chest, allowing me to move even deeper inside her. _Deeper, always deeper._ "Fuck, Red," I breathe, moving my hips faster.

A moan escapes her mouth, and she grips my hair lightly, bringing my face to hers. "Harder, please Jace," she whispers between gasps and pants. _Fucking hell._ I reposition my hands in the sheets, trying to gain more leverage to thrust harder into her, groans slipping out of my own mouth in the process. Clary opens her eyes to look at me, and I spit out a curse at the look in her dark eyes. She's so sexy, with her mouth open with moans, a few short red curls sticking to her slightly sweaty skin, and the dusting of freckles that I can— pleasantly— see all of. _My Clary. Mine._

Her head falls back against the mattress with a whimper, and I realize just how fast I'm moving. I worry for a second that I'm hurting her, but then she grips my arms tightly and a stream of curses streams from her mouth, mixed with encouragement. I gather her tighter in my arms as I feel myself getting closer.

"Jace," she whines, warning me of her own break. I nod and rest my forehead against hers, unable to form the words to tell her, too. She digs her nails into my skin softly and I grunt when I feel her contract around my length, triggering my impending release.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Okay, once again, I'm really sorry about updating late. But hopefully you don't all hate me now. Next week we have two guest stars, which may lead to a HUGE conflict between our favorite couple. Or not. You'll have to read to see.**

 **Review even though I sucked at updating this week! Please! They give me the needed energy to write these last few chapters!**


	25. Week 24

Clary's POV:

March 13-

"Hey, are you home right now?" Jace asks when I answer the phone.

"Yeah…? Why, what's up?" What is he up to?

"I just have to talk to you about something. You wanna buzz me up? I'll be there real soon."

"Of course! I'll see you soon," I say, more than a little curious as to what Jace would need to talk about. Not two minutes later there's a buzz, and I smirk at how close Jace was before he called. I buzz him up and go back to painting, not turning around until I hear the door open. "So what did you—" I break off in surprise and a bit of fear as I see who's standing there. "Sebastian?"

"Surprised to see me, I gather?" he jokes, Cheshire grin on his face.

I don't smile back, eyes narrowing and hands taking place on my hips. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here."

"But why not? You did buzz me up, Clarissa," he reasons with a menacing smirk.

I grind my teeth when he calls me 'Clarissa,' but don't let him get to me. "I didn't know it was you, Sebastian. I never would've let you up."

He narrows his eyes and walks forward, making me grip my paintbrush tight in fear. Jace is on his way. He'll be here soon, he said so himself. I just gotta distract Sebastian until Jace gets here. Sebastian left the door open, it'll be fine. "I would be more polite to me, if I were you. I did come to warn you, after all."

"Warn me?" What would Sebastian warn me about?

"I am warning you about Jace," he explains. Of course. I knew he wouldn't actually be here to help me. I can't help but roll my eyes at him, and almost regret it when he squints his eyes at me. "I am being serious, Clarissa. I mean you no harm, and if you wish me gone, I will leave with no force required. As long as you hear me out first."

"Sure, Sebby. Tell me all about Jace and how he's some horrible person and I just never knew about it. How he's been hiding his inner demons from me this whole time. How—"

"Jace is cheating on you," he interrupts, looking actually distraught to have to deliver the news. I open my mouth to correct him, and tell him to just leave, but he continues. "I know you do not want to believe me, but I saw it myself. I was walking down the street and I happened to see Jace and Kaelie— an ex of his— engaged in a liplock."

My heart stutters at the mention of Kaelie, but I don't let Sebastian see that he struck a nerve. "I'm sure there is some explanation for this. It probably wasn't even them, Seb," I reason, busying myself with cleaning the paint off my hands.

"Not to start a pointless argument, but I do believe I would recognize my friend of over 10 years. And it is quite hard to mistake the stilettos on Kaelie's feet," he argues, and I feel my heart sink a little at this logic.

I shake my head and raise my chin, staring him down. "I don't care what you saw, if you really saw it. I trust Jace. Even if this did happen— which I'm not sure it did— I am sure that there's an explanation. Jace wouldn't hurt me like that, and nothing you say can make me paranoid enough to run away from someone I love this much."

Sebastian is silent for a short while, just studying me with his constant unsettling dark gaze. "You love him. Already?"

"With everything I have," I admit quietly. "It didn't take long for me to fall completely."

"He will break your heart. You do know that, yes?"

I shake my head, "He won't. Jace loves me, too. He wouldn't hurt me."

"He could, though. Very easily," Sebastian argues, and I find myself actually smiling at how true that is.

"Yes. Jace could just as easily break my heart as blink. That's what's great about what I have with him— about giving yourself to someone so completely. Love is giving someone the power to destroy you, but trusting them not to. And by the Angel how amazing is that? Trusting someone that much," I muse, grinning like an idiot. "Either way I have to say, it would be worth it. He could destroy me tomorrow and I wouldn't regret a thing."

Sebastian shakes his head a little, looking honestly surprised by my answer and my confidence. "You are quite foolish."

"No, you are." I look towards the door and see Jace standing there, hands balled into fists and eyes blazing with anger.

* * *

Jace's POV:

I walk up the stairs, seeing that Clary's door is already open. She must have left it open for me.

"I am being serious, Clarissa." The voice is unmistakable, and makes my blood boil. "I mean you no harm, and if you wish me gone, I will leave with no force required. As long as you hear me out first." Like hell she does. Oh, I am so gonna kick his ass that sick—

"Sure, Sebby," I hear Clary respond, the disdain evident in her voice. "Tell me all about Jace and how he's some horrible person and I just never knew about it. How he's been hiding his inner demons from me this whole time. How—"

"Jace is cheating on you," he interrupts, and my heart stops in my chest, true panic taking over my system. No. Nonononono. Stop talking. Go away! Stop it! "I know you do not want to believe me, but I saw it myself. I was walking down the street and I happened to see Jace and Kaelie— an ex of his— engaged in a liplock."

There's silence on Clary's end, and I feel my heart beat faster. "I'm sure there is some explanation for this. It probably wasn't even them, Seb," she reasons, although she doesn't sound too sure to me.

"Not to start a pointless argument, but I do believe I would recognize my friend of over 10 years. And it is quite hard to mistake the stilettos on Kaelie's feet," Sebastian argues, and I can practically hear the gears turning in Clary's mind.

"I don't care what you saw, if you really saw it. I trust Jace. Even if this did happen— which I'm not sure it did— I am sure that there's an explanation. Jace wouldn't hurt me like that, and nothing you say can make me paranoid enough to run away from someone I love this much." Fuck yeah! Take that, Seb. Your 'input' isn't wanted here.

Sebastian is silent, and I wish I could see what body language was occurring between them. "You love him. Already?"

I barely hear her whisper, "With everything I have. It didn't take long for me to fall completely." If I weren't so manly, I'd swear my heart did somersaults in my chest.

"He will break your heart. You do know that, yes?" No I won't! If you'll just let me explain—

"He won't. Jace loves me, too. He wouldn't hurt me."

"He could, though. Very easily," Sebastian argues, and I have to wince at the track record that Clary must be thinking about right now.

"Yes. Jace could just as easily break my heart as blink. That's what's great about what I have with him— about giving yourself to someone so completely. Love is giving someone the power to destroy you, but trusting them not to. And by the Angel how amazing is that? Trusting someone that much. Either way I have to say, it would be worth it. He could destroy me tomorrow and I wouldn't regret a thing." I love you, Clary.

I hear Sebastian scoff, and like that my mood turns from adoration for Red to hatred for Seb. "You are quite foolish," he tells her. Alright, that is it, you cumdumpster!

I step into the doorframe, hands balled into fists and eyes blazing with anger. "No, you are." Clary and Sebastian both look surprised to see me standing there, but I can't pay it any mine. I have an ass to kick. "What are you doing here, Sebastian? Did you really think your attempt to ruin our relationship would be anything but a failure?" I ask, stalking towards Seb.

I take note of Sebastian's hands forming fists also, and soon Clary is moving between us. "Jace, don't do this. He was just leaving." She turns back towards Sebastian, her hand still on my chest, "Right, Sebastian?"

He opens his mouth like he wants to make a smart remark, but thinks better of it and snaps his mouth shut. "Of course, Clarissa." He walks past us both, my hands still balled at my side. "Jace," he acknowledges, nodding his head. I see a trace of sadness in his black eyes, and feel a twinge of sympathy for someone who used to be my best friend before shaking myself of that crazy shit.

"Don't come back, Sebastian. Ever," I seethe. Seb nods again and backs out of Clary's apartment, closing the door behind him. I swear on the Angel, if he ever bothers us again, so help me—

"So uh," Clary starts nervously. "How much of that did you hear?"

I wince a little, and although the fire in my veins is extinguished, my face is still scrunched in anger and frustration. "I'm not cheating on you," I tell her.

Clary's face flushes an adorable red and she looks down, as if embarrassed about something.

"Kaelie and I did kiss, though," I admit, and her head snaps up so her eyes meet mine. Shit, no! "Wait, I mean, she kissed me," I explain. "We uh, we saw each other, as a coincidence, on the street. And I was gonna just walk past and ignore her, but she wanted to apologize about her big scene that night."

She nods slowly, waiting for me to get to the part where Kaelie kissed me. "And she seemed really heartfelt, honest. But then she said that she hoped we could 'get back to where we were,' and kissed me." Clary doesn't look very convinced, and I feel my sweat collecting at the back of my neck. I grab her by the arms, holding her still and looking in her eyes. "Clary I would never hurt you. Those things you told Sebastian, how you… how you said you felt about me. I feel that too, with you. I know that you would never hurt me, just like you know that I would never hurt you. You have to know that."

"I do," she interrupts, smiling at me. "I meant what I said. I believe you. I know you wouldn't cheat on me."

My shoulders relax and I lean forward to give her a kiss on the temple. Thank the Angel. "Good. I'm so glad, Clary. You just, you didn't look like you believed me, and I got worried."

She grins and grips my hand, squeezing it a little as if to reassure me. "Honest, Jace. It's okay. We're all good."

I smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes, and I voice my worries before she can stop me. "I just don't like this. Any of this. I almost feel like people are targeting us, what with Kaelie, Sebastian, the shooter—"

"You really gotta let that go," she interrupts, with eyebrows raised. "It's New York, people get into dangerous situations all the time."

"Not you," I insist stubbornly.

She lets out a chuckle and rolls her green eyes. "Let's just be grateful that I'm okay, okay? It's over, done, in the past."

"Yeah, but—"

"Jace. Please," she begs. "You've let the burglary haunt you long enough. Sebastian and Kaelie are just… annoyances that don't know when to quit. But they're gone, and if they come back, we'll deal with it again."

I smile again, fears melting away with the words of wisdom from the girl in front of me. "You're right. I know you're right. I just want to protect you from everything, and I know I can't, and I know I don't need to either. You're so strong, I just keep forgetting that."

She gives me a kiss, running her fingers through my hair in a truly distracting way. "So what did you need to tell me, anyway?" she asks, wrapping her hands around my torso. When I give her a confused look, she clarifies, "When you first called me. You said you had something to talk about."

"Oh! Well, I was gonna talk to you about Kaelie. About what happened." Although I didn't really get the chance.

"You were gonna tell me?" she asks, looking surprised.

"Yes. I knew that I had to tell you; you deserved to know. And I knew that if I didn't tell you, you would have found out somehow. These things always have a way of coming out, I just didn't imagine that Sebastian would be how it came out. Or that it would come out so fast," I explain, drabbling on. Little shit made it sound so much worse than it was.

She kisses me again, mouth firm against mine. "What was that for?" I ask, smirking down at her.

She shrugs, content smile on her freckled face. "You're just kinda perfect. And I don't tell you enough, because I'm just not that kind of person. And I know you're cool with it and all, but still. You deserve to be told how awesome you are. Which is very. You are very awesome," she finishes, giggling.

"You're pretty awesome yourself, Red," I respond, kissing her back. As our mouths move together, I feel her hand drop to the waist of my pants, pulling me toward her. I smile against her mouth and follow enthusiastically, both of us chuckling when she accidentally backs into her doorframe. I sit down on her bed with her perched on my lap, hands getting lost in her shoulder length red curls. Clary's hands again fall to my waist, removing my belt briskly. I kick off my shoes and soon she has my jeans zipper all the way down. I shed my pants quickly and try to flip us so that she's on bottom, but she resists.

When I look at her confused, she blushes and closes her eyes, leaning her forehead against mine. "I want to show you this time," she says quietly, a few loose strands falling onto my cheeks.

"Show me what?" I ask, pushing the hair back behind her ears.

"You've always… taken the lead here. But maybe I want to try to make you feel good."

Fuck, Red. "You really don't have to do that," I tell her honestly, running my hands up her thighs in a reassuring gesture.

"I want to," she insists, staring at me intently. "So would you just lay back and let me show you how much I love you?"

By the Angel… "That has to be the hottest thing I've ever heard."

Smiling, Clary leans back over me, making me fall back onto the bed and pressing her lips onto mine. After stripping her of her shirt, one of my hands instinctively travels to her ass, the other undoing her bra and letting it fall. She gasps against my mouth as I palm her breasts, and I take the opportunity to look at her.

"You're so damn beautiful," I say, jaw clenched. "Fuck, I'm so lucky."

"You're stupid," she says simply, green eyes looking down at me with love.

"And you're amazing," I retort, catching her lips in a kiss. Clary lowers herself until our bodies are pressed against each other, the buldge in my boxers very prominent against her thin leggings.

Clary's fingers play with the waistband, looking up at me with question in her eyes. Like you need to ask. I nod my head and shift so that she can slide them down my legs. When she reaches the end of the bed she stands, removing the last of my clothing and then the last of hers. So beautiful. Twisting a curl nervously, she crawls back on top of me, chewing her lip furiously..

"Clary," I breathe, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. By the Angel, she is perfect. She grins at me and places a kiss on my lips, mouthing 'I love you' against them.

Huffing out a breath, Clary rises up on her knees. Not looking away from my lustful stare, she grips my length and aligns it with her center, whimpering quietly as she works her way down. I can't believe she's being this bold. I'm so fucking lucky, I love her so much.

It doesn't take hardly any time for us to adjust, and as soon as we do Clary leans down to kiss me, winding her fingers into my hair. Shit. I groan against her mouth when she starts to move, my hands trailing to her waist and then exploring every inch of her.

Breaking our liplock with a growl, I move my mouth along her throat. "Shit you feel good," I tell her. By the Angel this feels so fucking fantastic. Clary moans as I cover her chest with kisses, her fingers gripping my shoulders.

I wrap my arms around her back, tilting my head back to press our mouths together. Her hands travel along my arms, my muscles flexing under her grip. Fuck. I thrust slightly off the bed and Clary gasps, making me smile. She bites lightly at my bottom lip as she picks up the pace, forcing me to release a groan. God damn it. My fingers dig into her hips, making sure not to hurt her as I practically lose my shit.

Clary's hands fumble in the sheets above my head and she breathes my name. Her freckled face is tense, eyes scrunched closed in pleasure and fiery hair falling around us, pink lips parted. Fuck, it's almost too much. Too much pleasure, too much Clary. They're one in the same.

"Blondie," she whispers, movements slowing and uncontrolled. "I can't do— it's too—"

"It's okay." I understand completely. I prop myself up on my elbow and rub the back of her neck. "Clary," I question, waiting for her to meet my gaze. When she does, I stifle a moan at how dark and wild her emerald eyes are.

I lean forward to kiss her shortly and wrap an arm around her, my other hand splaying on her thigh to keep us entangled as I flip us. When I grind into her she gasps loudly, fingers gripping my hair as her head tips back.

She wraps both of her legs around my waist, and I lace our hands together, pinning them to the mattress above her head. I breathe heavy for a minute before I trace patterns along her neck and shoulder with wet kisses.

Clary's fingers flex in my hands as I continue to move above her. "Jace," she says like a warning, her brows furrowed. I lift my head to rest it against hers, trying to convey that I understand what she's feeling. Fuck, I'm feeling it too. I release her hands and instead grip her hips, my thrusts getting faster and less controlled.

Clary immediately wraps her arms around my neck, nails digging into my back as she arches into me. And just like that, her walls flutter around my length, signaling her impending orgasm. I'm right there with her, holding onto her tight as we bare ourselves to each other completely.

* * *

Author's Note:

Kay hey guys! I added this chapter and then removed it when I realized I didn't have an Author's Note about next week. So I hope I didn't fuck anything up! Anyways, as I stated before, next week is Week 25. THE LAST CHAPTER! I'm excited and sad at the same time. Be here to see the (hopefully) astounding conclusion to my first ever FanFic!

Love you all!

-MAC

(Changed my username from MaximumClaryAnna to MaximumAnnaClary cause FanFiction was giving me shit. I don't attempt to understand them.)


	26. Week 25

**Jace's POV:**

March 19 (into March 20)-

 _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She's gonna be here soon_ , I think frantically as I run around my apartment, straightening the silverware and stirring the vegetables.  
The oven still has roughly twenty minutes left when Clary enters my apartment, singing "Honey, I'm home!" as she does. But she stops in her tracks when she sees my set table, staring at me with wide scared eyes. _Scared? Why does she look scared?_  
"H-hey, Red. So, you're earlier than I thought you'd be... It's _almost_ done, but the oven still has about twenty minutes," I explain awkwardly, rubbing the back of my neck as I watch her nervously.  
"What," she breathes. "Why?"  
My brows furrow in confusion. ' _Why?' She's kidding, right?_ "I don't know…?" I say slowly. "I thought you'd be here later, like seven thirty-ish. So the timer—"  
"No, I mean why— why are you making me dinner?"  
"Oh! Ya know, you work hard, and neither of us have eaten yet. And I mean… why not?" _I didn't know I had to have a reason for making my girlfriend dinner._  
Clary stays silent for a while, as if trying to grasp something difficult. "So… So you're just, making me dinner? Just cause you can?" she asks, still looking confused.  
I smirk and walk to her, wrapping my arms around her and giving her a kiss on the crown of her head. "Just cause I love you."  
She takes a quick breath, chest moving rapidly against mine. "I love you, Blondie. I love you a lot, and you better stop doing shit like this or I'm only gonna love you more."  
I laugh and kiss the top of her head, happiness flooding my veins. "I love you, too, Clary. You do nice things for me, too; this is just a way that I can show you I love you. And I intend to keep doing 'shit like this' for a long time."

Clary's hands turn my face down to hers and she rises up on her toes, pressing her lips firmly to mine. I clasp her waist securely in my hands, thoroughly enjoying kissing her back. She walks backward until she bumps into the counter and then stops, likely assuming I'll situate her on the counter in front of me. Her hands are roaming over me quickly, grabbing at my hair and clothing furiously. _I have no idea what brought this on, but I will_ definitely _have to find out_ , I muse, slowly breaking the kiss. "Later," I breathe against her mouth, pecking her on the lips one more time. There's a faint pout on her face and I groan internally before explaining. "Believe me, if I didn't have something almost to the point of burning in the oven, I'd be more than happy to continue."

A flush appears beneath her freckles, and she looks toward the oven. "So. What's for dinner? Is that soup on the stove?" she asks curiously.

"Shit!" I run the stove, and am glad when I see that the vegetables aren't too shriveled and overdone. "The asparagus is still good," I inform her, placing the pot on a trivet on my kitchen table.

"Asparagus!" she exclaims, looking into the pot excitedly. I laugh at her enthusiasm and turn off the oven right as the timer goes off, placing the hot dish on another trivet. " _And_ baked Mac and Cheese? I don't deserve you," Clary says, smiling at me coyly.

I grin and grab the serving utensils, coming to stand next to her. "I assure you, my dear," I start, followed with a peck on the lips. "It is I who does not deserve you." After another kiss we sit down, digging into the dinner.

We make small talk throughout the meal, laughing and talking with an ease that never fails to surprise me. "So your day wasn't too bad, then?" I ask.

Clary shakes her head, leaning back in her chair. "No, they had me sitting in the nurse's station all day. I didn't have any patient interaction at all, really. Otherwise I definitely would've changed out of my scrubs first thing," she explains, looking disgusted at the clothing on her body. I laugh at her expression, and can't stop my mind from going back to our earlier kiss, and reciprocating her disdain for her clothing. _Stop it, Jace. Just because she was 'in the mood' earlier, it doesn't mean she is now._

"This was really good, Blondie," she tells me, nodding her chin at our now empty plates.

I smile and look down, inexplicably sheepish about the complement. "I'm glad you liked it."

Clary grins and stands up, taking our plates and putting them in my dishwasher. "I'm gonna go change out of my scrubs. Even though they're clean, I still feel all nasty." She stops to give me a kiss on the head. "Thanks for dinner, love."

I nod and she walks back towards my bedroom, leaving me to sit in the kitchen. Once again our earlier kiss comes to mind, and I shake my head to clear it. _Gotta stop it man. If she wants something to happen, she'll initiate it._ I place the pot and casserole dish in the sink, then lean against the counter and look in the direction Clary left. The door to my bedroom is left ajar, and if that's not an invitation, I don't know what is.

* * *

 **Clary's POV:**

I smirk at Izzy's text and drop my phone onto Jace's night stand. _Every time I spend the night at Jace's she assumes we're gonna have sex. I mean, we usually do. But there's so much more to our relationship than sex. Like our kiss earlier. I was so ready to get it on in the kitchen, and he insists on eating first. I mean I like food as much as the next person— probably more, actually— but what guy would pass up sex?_ I muse, turning back toward my designated drawer in Jace's dresser. I freeze when I see him standing in the doorway, watching me with dark saffron eyes.

"Jace?" I ask softly, startled by his presence and wondering how long he's been standing there, staring at me walking around his room in my underwear.

Before I can get another word out, Jace's hands are behind my ears and his lips are pressed to mine, his body pushing mine against the wall. He bites my bottom lip softly and I gasp, letting him work his tongue into my mouth.

 _I have never felt so wanted_ , I think. _By the Angel this is amazing._ Jace caresses my face as I pull on his short golden hair, and when my head falls back against the wall his mouth moves down my neck to my collarbone. I moan loudly when he rips off my bra and begins to massage my breasts, mouth following soon after.

I feel heat gather between my legs and I know that I'm already wet when Jace lifts me by my butt, pressing himself between my thighs to keep me up on the wall. We both moan as our bodies move together, lust and anticipation running through our veins. His hand moves to rub me through my panties before moving them aside.

I unwrap my legs from his hips and walk him backward to his bed, pushing him down so he's sitting. I shed my underwear under his watchful eyes, and watch them get darker as I walk up and stop in front of him. Jace's hands grab my hips to pull me closer and he splays kisses across my chest while I grab his t-shirt and pull it over his head. Once the article of clothing is removed he yanks me in for a searing kiss. _I love him._

"I'm gonna make you so sore tonight," Jace growls as I place open mouthed kisses along his neck. I rub along the waistband of his jeans and grin when I feel him twitch.

"I'll have to take your word for it, won't I?" I taunt him, kneeling between his legs in front of the bed. Jace groans at my sultry wording, and grips his sheets as I drag the zipper on his jeans down slowly, keeping my eyes on his. His eyes are so dark and full of desire that I have to keep myself from attacking him right then and there.

Just a few seconds later I have his jeans and boxer briefs pulled down, and I begin placing kisses along the underside of his length before licking the precum from the tip. Jace moans and winds my hair around his fingers, our eyes meeting briefly before I take his shaft into my mouth. I massage what I can't fit and he groans again, thrusting his hips as though he can't help it. "Fuck, Clary," he moans. "Oh shit I'm gonna cum."

I hum with his length still in my mouth and his hips buck harder. I feel him swell and I moan as I stroke him, encouraging his release.

I just have time to stand when Jace flings me onto my back, hovering over me. He places hot kisses all along my face, neck, collarbone, and chest. I run my hands over his back and arms, moaning and sighing quietly as he drives me crazy. I get lost in the feeling and the next thing I know Jace is rubbing his newly hardened member against me, causing me to throw my head back and moan. "By the Angel, Jace."

I wrap my legs around his waist and he pushes into me, filling me all the way. I can't seem to keep quiet as he rocks inside me, brushing my clit with each thrust. _Goddamn, this feels so fucking phenomenal._

I use my locked ankles as leverage to pull him toward me, and wrap my arms around him so he can bury his face into my neck. I hear his delicious groaning and it spurs me on, making close my eyes in concentration. I hear his bed creaking from our movements, and to be honest I'm a little surprised it's still holding up our weight.

When Jace unhooks my legs and pushes them apart, he stretches me further and penetrates me deeper. Right when I start to clench around him I feel him swell, and soon we're both screaming each other's names as we fall apart.

Before I can even regroup, Jace flips me over and enters me from behind, making us both moan. Placing a kiss on my neck, he positions us on our hands and knees before he thrusts into me.

"Ohh fuck, Jace. Right there," I encourage, pressing my hips back against his and letting out a little yelp when he enters me deeper than he has before. "Right there, harder."

"Shit, Red," he groans, shifting so he's kneeling behind me, moving his hips rough and fast. I can't wrap my mind around how good it feels and I can feel myself getting closer to my climax. "I'm almost there," he warns, rubbing my clit. He lets out a grunt and just like that he releases inside me, sparking my orgasm.

I collapse on my stomach and Jace pulls me to him, wrapping an arm around my back as we both try to catch our breath. "By the Angel," he pants. "I love you, so damn much Clary." His hands weave through my hair, lazily untangling the mat of short curls.

I smile, my lips brushing against his chest. "I love you, too, Blondie," I whisper. "So much. You're my favorite boyfriend." I feel his hand stop momentarily before he chuckles, and kick myself a little for being so tired and blurting out random shit like I do. "That came out weird. I'll just say that you're my favorite person. It's like I was eating stale oyster crackers my entire life, and then you come along and you're a fucking Cool Ranch Dorito."

He laughs at that and I can't help but join in, the sound and feeling of us being together filling me with a contentment I didn't know existed, and soothing me to sleep.

* * *

I wake up to a blinding light shining right into my eyes and groan, instinctively turning away from the rude awakening. I roll over without opening my eyes, and slam right into a wall of warm muscle. _Jace_ , I think, smile forming on my face.

A deep chuckle entices me to open my eyes, if only a little, and I see my golden boyfriend grinning down at me. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," he taunts, shifting a little so that my head can rest on his shoulder instead of under his arm.

I stick my tongue out at him and scrunch my eyes closed again, nuzzling into his neck and throwing a leg over his waist. He laughs again and wraps his free arm around my back, tracing imaginary lines along my skin. I sigh contently and give myself a few more minutes of bliss before opening my eyes.

"There she is," Jace says, giving me a kiss on the nose. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a dream," I mumble, still not completely coherent. "Why is it so bright?"

"I forgot to close the blinds last night when… because we… Well I got distracted," he defends, ears turning pink.

I smirk and roll onto my back, grabbing the covers to pull over our still nude forms. "Yeah. One of the cons of having a big window. Big window equals big light."

He laughs at my wording, shaking his head. "You're still not completely awake, are you?"

"Nuh uh," I admit, snuggling down into the covers. "You wore me out."

This time it's Jace's turn to smirk as he props himself over me. "Yeah, well you better wake up. Cause I'm hungry," he says desperately, getting out of bed with a confusing amount of energy. "You want pancakes or waffles?" he asks as he slips on a pair of boxers.

"Pancakes sound amazing," I state, groaning as I get up and stretch. Jace watches me intently and I roll my eyes before grabbing some fresh underwear and one of his discarded t-shirts. I hear him come up behind me and spin around, hoping my morning breath isn't too atrocious as I give him a good morning kiss. When I pull back I catch a glimpse of his clock, and my eyes widen in shock. _11:18!?_ "Is that the time!?"

"Is that a trick question?" he shoots back, looking concerned by my panicked state.

I spin back around to my drawer and try to explain to my frowning boyfriend why I have to put on some actual clothes to wear. "I'm supposed to meet Simon at noon for lunch, but I forgot to set my alarm last night," I realize, shedding his shirt and looking for my discarded bra from last night.

"Guess you got a little distracted, too, huh?" Jace grins suggestively, making me roll my eyes and slip on a pair of pants. "You know you could always cancel?" he suggests, wrapping his arms around me from behind and placing soft kisses along my neck.

I scoff and groan, not letting myself get caught up in his touch. Again. "I can't. I canceled _last_ week, thanks to you," I add, causing him to smirk. "I have to go."

Jace frowns dramatically as he follows me out into the living room and I search my bag for some gum and then don my coat. "Alright. I guess. But you owe me!" he insists, giving me a lengthy kiss before he opens the door for me. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"No you won't." He looks rather panicked at that answer and I chuckle, smoothing out his worry lines with my fingers. "Wrestling is over. The season ended on Monday."

"Wrestling is over? Will I ever see you again?" he asks with a sarcastically tragic expression.

I shrug, looking at him coyly with a smirk on my face. "It's a Small World."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay guys, we made it! This is the last formal chapter of It's a Small World. I'm so happy you guys liked it. Words can't explain how stoked I am that people actually are reading my shit. Like I said when I first started writing this, back in August (holy shit), this was my first time writing ever, outside of school assignments. So, I'm also pretty proud of myself. Yes, I'm tooting my own horn, get over it. I will be posting a time jump chapter just because I have the perfect scenario in my mind, although I'm not sure when, so don't hold your breath on Monday.**

 **Thank you all for reading, and reviewing, and favoriting, and following, and every other thing you do that makes me love you.**

 **See ya!**

 **-MAC**


	27. Epilogue

**Clary's POV:**

October 3, 2017-

"How ya doin, Red?" Jace asks as he locks the bar door behind us and grabs my hand.  
I shrug my shoulders, flipping my slightly longer red hair back in the process. "Fine. Excited for the new wrestling season."  
He smiles at my excited eyes, before sobering up and looking at me closely. "Are you sure you're okay? You didn't finish your wings, and you barely touched your beer."  
"I'm fine, really. Just not feeling too well, I guess," I insist, smiling in a way I hope is convincing.  
"Red…" he hedges, raising an eyebrow. _Dammit he reads me too well…_

"Blondie…" I parrot, hoping he'll let it go. I walk into his apartment— which might as well be ours considering how much of my own junk I have here— ahead of him, but he soon catches up, bashing my hopes.  
He places a hand on my shoulder and I stare up at him, nerves twisting in my stomach. _Is he gonna pester me until I tell him?_ "I know something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes that your mind is somewhere else completely." _He totally is. Damn it all to hell._  
"Jace…" I trail off, knowing I have to tell him, but dreading the action itself. "I have to tell you something. But I don't want you to do anything rash, okay? Just please let me say everything, and then you can say what you want."  
He nods and sits down on his couch, giving me a small smile. _Encouraging me even when I'm ruining everything. How Jace-like._  
I pace in front of him, continuing the motion even when I speak again. "First, I just want to apologize. I didn't plan for this, at all. It just happened."  
"Clary…" I can see he's nervous, so I take a deep breath and swallow hard, determined to just get it over with without throwing up. _Like ripping off a band-aid. A band-aid that will change our entire relationship. Whatever. No biggie, right? Ha. By the Angel, I am going to throw up._  
"I'm pregnant. I don't know how, because we were safe, ya know? We almost always use a condom, and either way I took the pill. Every night at seven, I swear on the Angel. It should've worked, but I guess nothing is 100%, so I mean, yeah. I'm pregnant. With your baby. Obviously. That's not even a question," I assure him, shaking my head furiously before continuing. "I'm sorry. So, so, _so_ , sorry. I mean, it's as much your fault as it is mine, technically. But I still feel responsible, cause, I don't know. I'm keeping it. Him. Her. Whichever. And you didn't ask for this either. But that's what I wanted to tell you, also! You can be as involved as you want. You can be at all the soccer games and ballet recitals, or you can literally just sign the birth certificate. I'm fine with either. I never wanted this to happen— I mean, not _never_ , but I was definitely gonna wait until we were married for like a year. I mean not 'we' like you, necessarily! Ugh, by the Angel this is so awkward. I'm sorry. So sorry, I can't even express. This threw a wrench in our relationship, and I don't blame you _at all_ if you wanna break up. If that's what you want. I mean, that's it, I guess. You decide. You can take some time, to think, if that would be—"  
"Marry me," he breathes, tawny eyes slightly bugging out of his head as he stares at me from the couch. _Well that's not how he responded the_ first _time he thought I was pregnant. Granted he thought I was pregnant with some other guy's— my nonexistent fiance's— baby._  
"No." _Is he crazy!?_ "I mean… No, Jace." _Why would he ask me to_ marry _him? This is the 21st century, there are tons of single parents, and I can_ do _this, dammit! I_ will _do this!_  
He takes a deep breath and blinks a couple times, obviously a little surprised by my rejection. "Well I gotta say that's not the answer I was hoping for… Why won't you marry me?" he asks in the softest tone I've ever heard, and at once I feel horrible for my dismissal.  
I take a seat next to him on the couch, trying to emanate comfort. "Because, I'm pregnant."  
"Exactly," he deadpans.  
" _Exactly_ , exactly!" When he looks confused at my outburst I calm down, grabbing one of his hands with my own. "Jace, I'm not going to marry you just because I'm pregnant. I won't trap you in this anymore than I already have."  
Jace furrows his eyebrows at me, determined look on his face. "I don't feel trapped. I _want_ to marry you."

My heart squeezes at his admission, but I shake my head. _It won't last. I know it._ "You're in shock, Jace. Which is perfectly understandable, but you have to think about this in the long run. What about when the shock wears off? What about when the baby is born, and there's screaming, and dirty diapers everywhere? Or hell, what about in 18 years, when he or she graduat es and moves out, and we're stuck there with only each other, and we realize that without that kid we don't even have a reason to be together?"  
"I will still love you at every one of those milestones, and _that_ will be our reason to be together!" he argues.  
I shake my head furiously and take my hand out of his to wrap my arms around myself, nausea rising up again as I try to stay strong, try to reject the love of my life again and again. "Jace—"  
"Stay here," he orders, standing up and all but running over to his coat hook. I stand from the couch in confused silence as he rummages through his pockets. When he returns he pulls me closer, and grabs my hands. "I love you. I love you, and I know that you love me, too. I get what you're saying, about trapping me, but you won't be." I open my mouth to argue and he continues, opening his hand to show a small box. "I bought this ring two weeks ago. I have been carrying it around _everywhere_ , waiting for some kind of impromptu moment, or some sign that 'now is the time' or whatever. Before I even knew you were pregnant, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. And that hasn't changed. _At all._ I don't feel _obligated_ to marry you because you're pregnant. I just know that I want you, want _this_ — the whole diapers, and soccer and ballet, and every crazy, horrible, wonderful thing in between— with you." He takes a deep breath and gets down one knee, looking way too vulnerable. "So, Clarissa Adele Fray, will you please stop being so damn independent and stubborn and just… just marry me?"

 _Logically I know that this is soon. That people shouldn't be promising to love each other forever after only ten months of dating. But in complete honesty, I don't give two shits if it's normal or not. It became pretty evident how strongly I feel for him when I took a bullet for him. There's no going back, for either of us… So I guess there's only one thing to say, huh?_ "Yes," I breathe, eyes stinging and heart stuttering in surprise.

* * *

 **Jace's POV:**

 _Say yes. Say yes. Say you'll marry me, and be mine. Please. Let me show you how amazing our life can be together._

"Yes," she whispers, looking down at me with her luminous green eyes, blinking away tears and what I'm sure is fear. _Did she just say yes? Holy fuck she did. Oh by the Angel, yes!_

The biggest grin splits across my face, and I swear on the Angel that I have _never_ been this happy in my entire life. I slip the ring on her finger and hurriedly crash her lips to mine, if only to stop her from changing her mind. I'm allowed to love her for the rest of my life. I'll never be without her again, and in a couple months we'll have the only person— half her and half me— that we will ever love more than each other.

Our kisses slowly change from sweet to passionate, my hands holding Clary close while hers roam my arms and shoulders. I grunt when she tugs on my hair and slowly lower us onto the nearest flat surface, the couch. She immediately presses herself against me, and I lean forward, pushing her lightly back onto the couch.

I watch her intently, hands sweeping across her soft skin as I unhurriedly remove her clothing. My face is right next to Clary's, her green eyes staring widely at me. I lower my head to kiss her neck, and she moans softly, raking her fingers to my jeans as she tilts her head to the side.

"Hold on," I whisper against her skin, attempting to hold onto my sanity.

Clary squirms beneath me as I scrabble around with my pant zipper, noticing the slight tremble in my hands. I remove her leggings and underwear in one move, pulling her to me as soon as possible. She crashes her lips to mine by gripping my hair tight, pulling me even closer. I can't stop the groan I release against her mouth when she bites my lip, and I pull away quickly.

"By the Angel, Clary," I growl. "Wait just a sec." I glide my hand between her legs, sliding against her thighs and then moving inside her. She cries out softly and I press her down on the couch, mesmerized by Clary as she gives herself up to my rhythm.

"You're so wet, Red. You have no idea how happy I am. I can't wait to marry you. Have a baby with you." _Every wish I've ever had about Clary is coming true right now._

"Oh, Blondie," she breathes, gasping so hard that for just a moment I want to ask if she's alright. "It's— I'm already— Oh jeez…" My mouth moves all over her body, hand continuing its tempo until she breaks and I watch in awe as she comes hard, her head thumping back onto the couch as she cries out and lets the spasms take her, causing her body to shudder in a truly breathtaking way. When her breathing is more stable she opens her eyes, looking up at me.

"Clary," I whisper, struck once again by how completely she has me enraptured. "You are so beautiful. I love you." I place a few chaste kisses along her face and neck, groaning harshly when she digs her fingers into my arms and raising my face to place a rough kiss against her lips.

I prop myself on my elbows, looking down at her for a second before sitting up. "Come here," I order softly, helping her move so that she's straddling me on the couch. When I press her down close we're connected again, and she clutches at my shoulders, head rolling into my neck. My fingers entwine in her short messed up hair as I pull her face up so I can look into her eyes. "Look at me, Clary," I instruct.

Her fingers trace my face gently and she grinds her hips forward a bit, closing her eyes and breathing out, "Jace." _We've never had it like this. By the Angel,_ no one _has ever had it like this._

I kiss her gently, lips drifting over her face and neck as my hands focus on her chest. When she moans loudly I grip her hair in my hand, my eyes searching for hers once again. Her green eyes are wide, dark, and glittering, brows furrowed as the tremors take her, and I lose it too, gripping her waist and pulling her even closer.

Clary slumps against my chest, both of our breathing labored for a long while before I speak. "We have to remember how we did this." She giggles softly into my ear, and I squeeze her closer. "Really though. There's good sex, and there's nirvana. This was the latter. Was it the couch? Cause I am never getting rid of it."

I feel her shake her head against my shoulder before she whispers, "It was us."

My arms tighten their grip on her, kissing her hair. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Jace," she says, drawing patterns idly on my shoulder. "You're amazing."

I look down at her, still breathing a little heavy as I pull her up for a full kiss. "You're just as amazing, Red. I could do this with you over and over."

She laughs softly, blush taking place on her lightly freckled face despite what we just did. "You better live up to that promise, Blondie."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay, I'm sorry times a million. This epilogue is coming WAY later than I had originally intended. I had some familial issues earlier this month, and then preparing for finals came out of nowhere, and basically I want to die right now. But writing this was a lot of fun. Hopefully pregnant Clary isn't too cliche, and you guys like what I did with this story. I don't have another epilogue in mind, but if something miraculous comes to mind I'll obviously add it.**

 **I'm also working on another story, though I'm not anywhere near posting yet. It'll be another Clace story, with a little bit of Willary mixed in. This one will take place in college though, over the span of four years, so it'll obviously jump around way more than It's a Small World did.**

 **Anyway stay tuned, and thanks SO much for all the love and support. You guys give me the will to keep writing, despite writer's block.**

 **Love you! -MAC**


	28. Sorry! Not an Update, Just a Question

Hey guys! Sorry, this isn't an update. My creative juices have been focused on another story I'm writing. It'll take place over 4 years of college, so it'll bounce around a lot.

QUESTION: How many chapters is too many chapters? Cause right now I'm at like 65, and it almost feels excessive. But idk. Lemme know, please and thank you! Your guys' opinion means quite literally everything to me, so I really do wanna know.

Love you guys still,

MAC


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